Two years ago, I was sitting alone in a cabin in Iceland, staring out the window at the driving rain. I was willing the weather to improve so I could head out to take some photos and shoot the video I had planned for the trip, but the forecast said this storm would last for at least three of the five days of my getaway. So there was nothing I could do but hunker down, read a book, and drink too much coffee.
It also happened to be my 40th birthday.
Something about the marking of another year makes me a little wistful, and I usually end up taking some time in the day to look my life over, to celebrate and mourn the events that deserve either, and to ask myself whether I feel I’m moving in the right direction. It’s also on birthdays that I allow ...
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