My Home is 200 meters above the Sea.
That’s where I was born. That’s where I live.
In the highest town in Latvia — Alūksne.
Surrounded by spruce forests, it is shielded from the northern winds, but not from the cold.
Because of its location on the Vidzeme Highlands, winters here are the longest, coldest, and snowiest in the country.
They teach patience, endurance, resilience.
They teach you to become stronger.
Here, white becomes a palette:
even those unfamiliar with color will eventually learn to distinguish at least 50 shades of white.
While in other parts of Latvia the air already smells like spring,
Alūksne is still under ice and snow.
We wait patiently.
We believe in the sun.
This patience is not just a character trait.
It is a way of life.
Just like love.
Living far from the capital and large cities, it’s easy to love the place where you were born.
To be a local patriot.
But my love doesn’t stop at borders.
It has no coordinates.
Love knows no boundaries.
I believe — it is love, not beauty, that will save the world.
Every time I look at people, landscapes, light,
I search for traces of love.
And when I find them, I know: this is the core.
This is the reason.
This is everything.
Without love, nothing makes sense.
Not technology.
Not language.
Not even dreams.