Spring day in Aalbrg, Denmark

 One of the unique things about this place is how you can feel time changing every day. Back in November and December, the days were getting shorter rapidly. But now, as if all that darkness never happened, the days are growing longer just as quickly. The sun now sets at 8:10 PM. And since March 30th, daylight saving time has begun—yet the sun still sets at 8:10 PM.

Today's Sky

Today's Sky

The temperature was between 5 and 10 degrees Celsius just a few days ago, but now daytime temperatures have climbed to between 10 and 20 degrees. On windy days, you still need to wear winter clothes, but if there's no wind, even light spring clothes can feel too warm. People here started wearing short sleeves a while ago.

What's surprising is that even in July and August, the daytime temperatures stayed between 15 to 25 degrees Celsius. I hardly saw any days over 26 degrees. Still, it felt hot under direct sunlight and stayed cool in the shade. On rainy days, though, it suddenly turned cold again—I remember needing a fall jacket.

When it gets cloudy, it feels cold.

Unlike Korea, where temperatures can swing regularly from –20°C in winter to +40°C in summer, the changes are more subtle here. As summer approaches, there are more sunny days, fewer windy days, and even fewer rainy days. It's almost like quantum mechanics.

By mid-March, I remembered attending a Danish class at 5 PM four weeks ago. It was rainy, damp, and so dark it almost felt depressing. But the very next week, it felt like broad daylight at the same hour, and it was so warm I had to take off my coat. I told some other students how strange it was that the weather had drastically changed in just one week. They laughed and said:

"It's amazing, but don't get too comfortable—this is Denmark!"

Last week was full of sunshine. Yesterday, I went to a local flea market near what looked like a woodworking studio to get some fresh air. Along the road, I saw trees that looked like forsㅁythia, cherry blossoms, and plum blossoms. They may not be the same species as in Korea, but walking among them felt like strolling along the Seomjin River back home.

In front of a woodworking studio

A month—or even a week—passes like a single day. Time flows effortlessly here. Could it be that this is how time is supposed to feel? Time was precious, whether in Denmark or Korea. It's a bit sad that I've only realized that after coming here.