Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Soren, happy birthday to you! ššš Seventeen now, you know what this means: you are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!
How has the day been thus far? I suppose youāve opened presents by now; what did you get, did you like it? I hope you are enjoying yourself. I canāt imagine what you look like now very well ā at the risk of sounding like a grandparent, you must have grown so much.
You must have something from me too. Though it is not much, and I donāt know if you will like it, hereās a small landscape I made recently. Itās called āA View from the HMS Terrorā. Do you remember when we went camping somewhere, I donāt quite remember where, I think in Oregon, where we were in the woods with the charcoal from fires and we could see all the Milky Way? And there was this place with all the planets at intervals representing their distances in light-years or suchlike? I imagine the arctic sky is similarly beautiful to that. A grand, lovely place.
With love,
Alice