Warmth in the cold. Or the opposite. It can't go wrong. It's like pluss and minus, sweet and salt. It's chemistry. I'm talking about the feeling of warmth in a cold environment. In other words: Cold March air and frozen, white ground. You stand leaning up against the wall to stay sheltered from the breeze. Then one, tiny, warm sunbeam find its way through the clouds and hit you right in the face. You frown your eyes in surprise and wonder. What a feeling! What a warmth! Can life be any better? For an average nature-loving Norwegian, the answer is: No, it can't be any better.
I wonder, what is it that makes this Nordic "Easter-sun" so incredibly warm, addictive, and satisfying? Not even a southern sandy beach and the smell of coconut-oil beats the idyllic Easter heat(slash cold) up in the mountains. If it's a sunbeam that lasts for one minute, or a ski-trip lasting all day: our heads turn towards the light and soak up every little bit of Vitamin D there is to find. And we absolutely love life in that very moment.
What this comes down to is that warmth feels a lot better when the surroundings are cold. You may agree that laying on the beach in Mallorca in July's 42 degrees Celsius is not really the greatest. Nor is eating ice-cream in minus 15. Thus, this "Scandinavian need for light", and that spark that's being lit inside us when we face that low winter-sun, should be pretty basic and easy to grasp. Yet, I find it to be a somehow strange and cultural concept, which can't really be explained.
But, luckily, explaining it is not really my point here. I just wanted to share this with you: When I sit on a mountain-top with layers of wool, bathing myself in the sunlight, I do not, in any way at all, envy my friends on vacation in Fiji! Life is so so good, and until I'm back home and remember all the things I need to do and should have done, I am the luckiest girl on this planet!
