Buffeted by wind and the remains of yesterday’s snow, my breath visible as tiny crystallizing clouds, I was walking down Hornsgatan past exposed cliffs and Swedes making their day, back to my hotel on Långholmen when a beautiful voice drifted in, singing a song about Sweden. My iPod was set to shuffle, and while I’d heard the song before, I’d never paid attention to the lyrics until now. I shook my head a little bit, marveling at the tiny coincidence and kept walking, smiling.