Sentimentality, My Old Friend
It was every bit as perfect as the 66° North promos. The Icelandic storm.
Blowing snow came up out of nowhere and brushed our faces. Visibility on the highway was awful. Clouds of snow appeared to temporarily swallow the car. Veins of snow danced across the centreline just as the aurora danced in an arc across the horizon. It was painful, and it was perfect.