…throwing it back to a Danish New Year’s, January 1st, 2020: Looking out over a grey-swept city, the ghosts of fireworks over Tivoli long gone… washed away by a miraculously bold sunbath pouring through the distant sky, showering the city in amber glow. Windmills whirl to the silent rhythm of a sleeping city. Smokestacks drift, lazy as lava lamps. Dearest, Denmark. It’s a strange kind of gift to find myself here, of all sacred cities… pondering my past through skyline reflections on copper rooftops. Ten years ago, 2010, marked the end of my first year calling Copenhagen home. Freshly 19, wide-eyed, curious and insatiably absorbent of Danish culture, traditions, friendships, ‘family’… I’d ride a basket full of fresh herbs around the city on…