During some winter months, over the Arctic Circle, the sun sets over the horizon and does not return. The days are not totally black, nor totally dark, but endowed with a strange and dim light. Just as if the sun tried its best to reach the surface but hardly managed to grasp it. These are strange months, when the sun is never there. Everything feels more static and calm.

But nature is overwhelming. In the everlasting winter, she is the one true mouthpiece. Away from the city, the darkness is more enveloping. The eyes get used to piercing the shadows, and little by little the mountains are outlined, like snow giants in the murk of an endless night in which dawn and dusk remain in oblivion for more than four months a year.

It's strange how tedious certain days can appear, but there are times when everything just feels more gray and dreary. Then the sky explodes in colours.