Snow way! A couple of things in a strange list of coincidences that have been happening to me lately.

I’d been saying it for weeks: I really hope it snows in Edinburgh on the second to last Saturday of November. We had a trip planned — my friend and I — leaving from London on Friday, and returning on the Sunday. I didn’t want travel disruption on either side, so I put it out into the universe that I’d like it to snow on Saturday, and Saturday only, nicely melted by Sunday.

Saturday morning comes, and I open the curtain slightly. Snow, in motion, and settled, all on the roofs opposite. A snowstorm with massive flakes. I shout at my friend Caroline through the bathroom door, “IT’S SNOWING!”, and as soon as she’s out she puts on Jingle Bells and Swedish Christmas music. We fall about laughing, giggly, giddy, scramble into all our layers, run outside, Caroline lets the snowflakes melt on her tongue, I feel them melt onto my eyelashes and my blinks are momentarily heavy.

By Sunday morning, the snow is all gone, not a trace. Train lines face unrelated delays regardless, a long line forming at the ticket office. We get to the station very early and Caroline buys postcards to send home and writes them as we wait. ‘Det had snöat (!!) och varit så stämningsfullt här uppe’, which she translates to ‘it snowed and it was feelingful’. When she asks for international stamps to post them, the man in the shop asks us where we are from. “Sweden”, says Caroline. The man looks at me expectantly. I nod and agree solemnly. Our train runs completely fine and to time.

On my birthday, a couple of weeks later, I wish for two things. One of the wishes I instantly regretted due to its lack of specificity. I knew that if you say your wish out loud it doesn’t come true so I decided to quickly share it: “I wished for growth”. At the same time as I was blowing out my candles, a poem of mine was being read out at an awards ceremony, a poem in which I talk about San Francisco, and missing my small cousin there.

When my uncle calls to wish me a happy birthday, I tell him I miss him. I mean it so sincerely and I think he says it in the moment but he asks me to spend Christmas with him, my aunt, and my cousin in San Francisco. I laugh, “if only I could!” “Well, why can’t you?”, he says, and offers to buy me a return ticket. When I ask my dad whether I should go, he replies that it would be good for growth — yes, that specific word. So here I am, sat in Sausalito, looking out onto the water, the sky a washed black, stars bright, a lighthouse in the distance. I can scarcely believe my luck. I should be careful with my thoughts in case they really do happen. I am kind of hoping that they will, worried that they won’t, and optimistic all at the same time. ∎