Cold

The evening breeze, cooled by the frigid NorthSea never fails to welcome me to this place. Nonedescript, marked only by a pole and a small 4x4 plaque, it can seem like Oya or her Viking consort Njord chose to channel their chilling breath through this spot. For 40 days now, I have had to endure the icy chill the wind brings. Sometimes it can feel like the wind reaches out an icy claw and grabs the heart, as though it would yank it out and leave me for dead. ...