A frozen coastline is always inviting for photography. Ice floes create abstract patterns on the surface, ice-covered rocks look like glass, and the wind has blown the most amazing icicles into shape. From inside the car, everything looks perfectly fine. Let's go there – down to that lake. I step outside, and – yes, it's cold. That was to be expected. After a few meters, it feels like the temperature dropped even further. I am wearing a few layers, but at that exact moment, it hits me that I should have packed a warmer jacket. By the time I reach the shore, the wind has driven that freezing chill absolutely everywhere. OK, at least I'll take a photo since I'm already here. I take off my gloves, and before a single minute passes, I know it was a bad idea. Numb hands go straight back into the warmth of my pockets, but – I can't feel my fingers anymore. I remember reading somewhere that if you fall into an icy sea, you have a few minutes at most. I am convinced that right here, I would be finished in a matter of seconds. We get cold winters back home too. Sometimes below minus twenty. And I've experienced a fierce north wind in the mountains when I underdressed. But here – this was absolutely the most horribly, miserably, uncomfortably freezing cold place I have ever been in my entire life.

Sweden #3, 2010