meanwhile, in istanbul

It's our second day of relentless snowfall, and I wanted to share these images of our winter wonderland with you before another power outage!

into the snow

Lately we've been braving temperatures of -20º Celsius in New Hampshire— and I know that's a warm day for my Canadian friends, but goodness! Counting ducks while your extremities loose feeling and your face hurts is an entirely different birding experience. Actually I quite enjoy it, but I really need to invest in some snow boots.



I love New England in the winter.

grey, grey, grey

To say that winter is bleak in Istanbul, is an understatement. It is downright depressing. The sky is grey, the city is grey, the people are grey. I used to find a poetry in the mournfulness, in the huzun, but currently, I am in a terrible state of unrest. My toes can't seem to warm, there's a rattle in my chest, and the grumpiness of the people on the street is souring my mood. A few days ago, it was nearly spring weather— so warm in fact, that crocuses popped up their heads towards the pale sun. We have since descended back into that wet, bone-chilling gloom, and there is an inexplicable amount of mud.



What else can you do but wait?
Wait, and have another çay.

the things i saw today

Having been cooped up indoors for far too long, a simple walk becomes a sensory explosion— the heavy, dull smell of burning coal, the soft scent of snow in the clouds, the brine of the sea... My childhood comes flooding back into the forefront of my brain as these scents and that green, green of the Bosphorus melt into a blur of synaesthesia.

Life has carried on in my absence— always a bit shocking but never disappointing; the yellow house is now tragically white, and the blue barrels are now on the right-hand side of the road. Boats with different names bob silently in the green waves. I feel like I've been reunited with a long-lost love— forgotten contours and fuzzy details now clear.

As I feel the comfort of cold cobblestone beneath my thin sole, I can't help but spread a wide grin across my winter-stung face.

It feels so good.

minus two

Sometimes it's worth taking a walk by the sea in minus two degree weather— hot coffee in hand, music in ears, wrapped up in layers of scarf, wool and coat. The bus can be boring.