Copenhagen has its own way of whispering during the winter. The city breathes instead of yelling. Gently. Carefully. Almost courteously. This place has muted, delicate, slightly nostalgic mornings with a pale, silver-blue glow that makes you feel like you're awakening from an old Scandinavian painting.
Long before I step out of my duvet I sit and listen for a minute in winter, I start my winter routine to the faint call of seagulls from the harbor, the muffled footsteps of someone in the apartment above me, and the soft hum of the radiator.
My favorite corner on slow mornings.
"Copenhagen's winter mornings are a love letter to stillness."
When I do get up, I put on thick wool socks, cover my shoulders with a cardigan, and go to the kitchen.