The Northern Diaries: Copenhagen
May is merely a few moons away, but in the quaint Swiss village where I live, Spring is nowhere in the horizon. I wish I could write about how blue the sky is or how the fragrant spring finally fills the air. Due to the tardiness of last winter, it might be awhile before I could see the arrival of spring. Most people find grey sky dispiriting, I beg to differ. Although I enjoy sunny days by the lake, I secretly love the greyness more. Living in a perpetual state of pathos may have something to do with it (this is also a secret, I appear as a happy and outgoing person to most).
Perhaps I could save the story of jovial spring for another time. As Hayden Calnin’s “Cut Love” has been the only song I’ve listened to in the last few days, melancholia has been the trope of my week.
I spent my last winter in the windy Copenhagen. Instead of taking shelter in the comfort of my Frederiksberg flat, I spent most of my days out on strolls, challenging the winter wind. It was depressingly sunny and warm in Berlin where I had spent a fortnight prior to my stay in Copenhagen. I felt the need to soak my skin in the ashen northern weather.
Many have beautifully captured the spectacular charm of pale winter or the colourful warmth of summer, but the ashen weather has always been overlooked. It’s that awkward period of time where the leaves have fallen and the lakes are not quite yet frozen and everything looks gothic. I could never provide an answer, but it is the kind of weather I enjoy the most.
Equipped only with a warm winter jacket, a bottle of water and the company of my best friend and her partner, we decided to take a walk around the city. We somehow found ourselves in a weird, outer part of the city, but we didn’t mind. The biting, frosty wind didn’t hinder us from absorbing the ashen beauty into our minds. However, as darkness fell, we had no choice but retreat into the confines of the indoors.
It was a lovely day. Unconventional and gloomy without a doubt, but lovely nonetheless. The mementos I took with my inadequate phone camera became a source of bewilderment amongst my Copenhageners acquaintances. It escaped them how I was able to capture such beauty in a weird area of the city. Essentially, I believe that you don’t have to go to a beautiful place to capture beauty. All you need is a different perspective. Then perhaps, you might be able to see that it has been hidden in front of you all along.