Bright Nordic winter sun. So high, so bright, so cold. Blue sky. Freezing Lysefjord, water turned into white foam at the back of the boat as we propel further in. Hot chocolate, frozen toes - your hands pushing mittens on my feet for thawing. Salmon farms, frost on your upper lip.
A mezzanine to crawl into for an afternoon nap, the sun blazes through the window and we snooze on coarse blue linen sheets. The toilet runs, the party goes on downstairs, my skin flushes and itches, but we're okay, we're in love.
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