Iceland | A Dream of the North

| A Dream of the North. Returning to Iceland, it was as if the wheel of fate had turned again. This time, the gods of fortune blessed me with a week of sunshine. In this land at the end of the world, the sun is like a lazy god, rising at 10 am and setting at 4 pm. But in the short hours of daylight, the morning and evening light create a beautiful dream. When the first light pierces the clouds, the deep blue sky is torn open, leaving a trace of the aurora. At sunset, the sky is painted pink, as if the goddess of love has spilled her blush, and the long blue and pink hues weave a romantic poem. As the end of the year approaches, the sound of Christmas echoes through the streets of Reykjavik. The colorful houses are like gift boxes, and the lights under the eaves are like fairy dust, creating a warm glow in the cold air. Walking through the streets, every step is like stepping into a dream. The cold wind brushes my cheeks, but it cannot blow away the warmth in my heart. The coldness of the ice and the warmth of the people are intoxicating, and even in the snow, it feels like spring.