Durham

A whole new world in Durham. Some things are so complicated, involved and mystifying that they defy explanation. My move to Durham falls into that category, so I will not even attempt to put the experience into a few sentences. Suffice it to say: things are different.

Flying just out of London, the fog was so thick planes instantly disappeared from view upon take-off. As the sun went down the clouds turned into a sea of inviting fluffed pillows. Difficult to not pull the plane's emergency slide and go frolicking.

Later, coming into Northeast England and flying low over towns and villages covered with a spotty fog. The glow beneath the mist is amber, purple, pink and makes it look like you are flying over a bubbling witches cauldron. Every so often the fog breaks and you see the sparkle of city lights which look more like some sort of Lord of the Rings CGI shot.

Walking in Durham right now involves a constant rhythm. Crunch, scrape, crunch, scrape. Yes, it is cold, rainy, and snow-covered, but in a good way. There are times when it is so cold you almost feel hot. Today was one of those days. The dirty, beige-hued snow on the ground looked and moved just like fine beach sand. Cold-heat and sand-snow, I could be on some tropical island.