May you one day see Ice Flowers in lakes or the sea,this a phenomenon of nature that is surreal and fragile.
Lakes, seas and Fjords in Norway
The Night the Sea Blossomed
In the far north of Norway, where the fjords sleep beneath a vault of endless stars, there was a cove so quiet that even the wind dared not breathe. They called it Hvitrosebukta—the White Rose Bay—because on certain nights in the deepest winter, the sea would bloom.
No one knew why it happened. Some said it was the work of the old gods, leaving delicate gifts for those who kept faith in the dark season. Others believed it was the ocean’s own sigh, crystallized in the bitter cold.
One such night, a little girl crept out from her family’s cabin, muffled in wool from head to toe. She had never seen the frost flowers herself, only heard her grandmother’s stories—how the ice grew like petals across the young sea, how it glowed blue in the moonlight, how it vanished by dawn.
When she reached the shore, she almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Thousands of tiny ice blossoms unfurled on the glassy surface—star-shaped, feathered, fragile. They caught the moonlight and scattered it in pale halos. The whole bay looked like a frozen garden.
She stepped carefully to the edge, crouching to study a single bloom. She thought she heard it whisper—a sound like a snowflake landing on her mitten. It was saying: Remember me. I am here only tonight.
She wanted to scoop one up, keep it forever, but she knew it would melt before she reached home. Instead, she just watched as the frost flowers spread, one after another, a silent tide of wonder.
And when the first hint of dawn touched the sky, the blossoms began to fade. They seemed to sigh and slip back into the sea, leaving no trace they had ever existed. She carried the memory inside her—a garden of ice, alive for a single night.
Long after she had grown old, she would tell the story to her own grandchildren: that on the coldest nights, when the sea was very still and the stars were very bright, the world could still surprise you with something more beautiful than any dream.
Stories that are ephemeral like this mystical event in nature only happen when the warm vapours of the warmer water of the lake meets the ice to create crystals that form ice flowers or frost flowers.
Anthology of trade secrets is an agency that curates beautiful ranges that are crafted by an ephemeral act of nature.
Remember Me. I am here only tonight.
TRADE ANTHOLOGY//
Talk soon, I only relate to interesting news.
Victoria
TRADE ANTHOLOGY 