It was about the quiet poetry of solitary wanderings. In winter. This seaside town felt abandoned. It was cold. The sky was dreary. The only people I met were in warm cafes. Congregating. Reading newspapers. I took these walks frequently to clear my head, to work out story lines and character nuances - to feel grounded in time and place. I remain grateful to the wonderful women who ran the Ventspils Writer's House for this opportunity. I fell in love again with textures and lines, with the wind and open sea. At night it snowed like a prayer. I was happy.