You know I talk of a wandering heart often. Because that is what my heart does: It wanders away from me and I find myself breathless trying to catch up to it. When I finally do catch it I look about to find this wandering heart of mine has taken me somewhere magical. Juste comme ça…
Snow and mountains for me are like the sea and sand - ever changing, ever inspiring and ever pure. I was born by the sea on that big island down under, but I adore the wintry mountain life just as much. And I have been dreaming to have my feet in the snow again for some time, 15 years to be precise. And it has not been that easy to realise that dream. Life happens. And my little dreams remain floating in the clouds. But not last weekend. My dream came true…
I love the feeling of the snow in my bare fingers. How it melts to my touch. And how it changes but remains constant. And that I can eat it. Can I? I did actually, because I was a little parched at the time. So are you wondering where my heart wandered this weekend? Take my hand and I will take you with me…
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