Every now and then, life serves up unforgettable moments. They are those instances where, years later, you're able to instantaneously transport yourself across time. The full palette of your senses firing away simply by recalling that precious encounter. For me, this was one of those. //

I can remember the golden light painting the reeds, the sound of the spindrift skirting over the frozen bay, and the Arctic air stinging my face. I can remember seeing her face with my eyes, then through the viewfinder, knowing that I'd forever immortalised that moment. I had stumbled upon "White Gold". //

These moments, these memories, are an echo from another time. They are our home. Whenever we feel lost, they guide our route back. We bond over them, cry over them, laugh over them. They are our story.