I stretch towards spring like a cat reaching for that patch of sunlight streaming in through the window. I yearn for it endlessly and yet it remains just out of reach. It’s in touching distance. I see pictures on Substack from people in other corners of the world documenting how spring has already arrived for them, earlier than here and it makes me ache. Here in Denmark, Spring is dragging its heels, we linger in the in-between.

I have felt a deep yearning for the crispness of autumn recently. Summer has come late this year to Copenhagen, and with it I feel a kind of fatigue that I find hard to put into words. As much as I love the endless days of the summer months (when we are lucky to get them here), I find the novelty wears off quickly. Having grown up in rainy Scotland, I am not used to so many days of good weather in a row. I am sure many other Brit’s will attest to this feeling of ‘making the most’ of the weather whenever we are blessed with sun.