Normino in Copenhagen

Not a cloud in the sky. Det Kongelit Theatre to my left, the impressive new opera house across the canal, the gateway to Nyhavn behind me, I am looking across the water at the gold-spired churchtop in Christianshavn. The sun is shining on my face and glistening on the water. The city is quiet, not at all as it will be in another hour or two. Days ago, my sleeplessness and the cold and the wind and the rain and the noise and the crowds got me down. Down to where I briefly forgot what a blessing this is. But last night, walking back through Nyhavn with my handsome partner at 10:00 pm in the sunshine with two young lovers in their 70s walking hand-in-hand ahead of us, I remembered. As our Danish mother stopped to point out each and every memory, as she stopped to gaze in wonder at how her city has grown and changed, as I watched her eyes shine with love for her home and pride in showing it off, my cold heart melted. This is the romantic city of which I read. This is the historic home of castles and canals and colorful rowhouses and kings and queens and parks where the natives strip themselves in front of the warm glowing sun as soon as they get the chance. This is the small proud country where, despite the growing need to teach their children English, they continue to speak their historic and beautiful native language, the language of Vikings and of royalty, a language older than the country I call home. This is a place of stunning green countrysides, ancient fortresses where brave countrymen guarded their prized land and charming ancient fishing villages where the locals continue to shop for the best herring, salmon, eel, plaice and all the bounty the Oresund provides.
The crowds in the Stroget can be exasperating, the weather unpredictable and the prices wallet-busting; but, at this special moment, there is no crowd, no inclement weather, no cost to sit and watch the sun's rays dance on the water, the little mallard sleeping next to me with its beak nestled in its wing, listen to the chirpsong of the gulls and jays, feel the sun's warmth on my neck, sip my morning coffee and appreciate this romantic beautiful city I am blessed to visit.
Copenhagen, I love your spirit, your sass and your smorrebrod. I love the Louisiana and your appreciation for all things artistic. I love your fighting spirit when your team plays the World Cup and your determination to keep the party going long after the losing play.
Tak for alt, CPH.