I think that I shall never see, A poem lovely as a tree -Joyce Kilmer, 1913

As soon as I encountered this horse-chestnut tree during a walk across the old city in Stockholm, swirling memories of my childhood and cozy Autumns spent back to my hometown colored my mind. All of a sudden, I was taken to an imaginary trip through the fields covered with dazzling hoar frost, my pockets full of fresh chestnuts, breathing in the sweet scent of osmanthus. Nature and its diverse repertoires elicit unexpected emotions and feelings that can be hardly put down into words. They are central to defining who I am, and are a constant reference to the places I truly belong to.