When the sun is setting, between dusk and darkness, there is a moment when the light turns blue. And the world stops for a heartbeat.
Hermanus was windy today and the waves were majestic – and loud! It is almost hypnotic to watch them crash againsg the shore and seabirds fighting the wind (or hiding from it).
The waves carry shells, pieces of coral and other interesting bits and pieces onto the shore. We had to limit both girls to four treasures per beach to ensure our clothes will still fit into the suitcases for the journey home.
A good day to get out of the hospital.
There is not much to photograph in the hospital. But the one thing guaranteed to always exist in South Africa is a sizeable parking lot. And in most places there is greenery located between car lots. And there is always something blooming.
I love Cape Dutch houses. Together with the yellow and red African sunset, they are almost too picture perfect.
And if it feels too cliché, it helps to remember that the view follows another well-known South African phenomenon: the parking lot is just out of the shot
We have a big glassed-in terrace in our back garden. When the temperature stays below zero for several days in a row, the glass gets covered in ice crystals. It looks like it belongs in the ice palace from Narnia (or Frozen, for the girls’ generation). Trying to take pictures of it is impossible, though. A photo never compares.
The first time Stuart visited Finland was for Christmas 2010. It was an exceptional December. Over one metre of snow blanketed Helsinki, and the city was running out of places to plough it. Parking lots and walkways disappeared under snow mountains in an attempt to keep the streets clear. The temperature dropped below –27°C the day before Christmas Eve in Asikkala, where we were spending the holidays.
Everyone kept saying how rare that winter was, but I don’t think Stuart truly understood it until we moved here. The past four winters have shown how much muddier a typical coastal winter is. Because of the sea, day temperatures rise above 0°C on more than half (sometimes two-thirds) of days in January and February. Snow melts, turns slushy and heavy, mixes with sand and dirt, and becomes cold mud. Not exactly postcard-perfect winter scenery – at least not before the next snowfall briefly covers it all again.
Therefore, even with numb fingers, a frozen-solid car, and limited time outdoors, I love these crisp, sunny, beautiful winter days. You can see the cold in the air and the way light reflects.
–10°C would be perfectly fine, though. –20°C is pushing it.
Drinking fountains are a great place for people-watching. I am always surprised how many people loiter around even after they have their bottles filled. Especially when there is a long queue behind them.
There is something magical about Spring Day in South Africa. In Finland, Midsummer tends to have everything but summer weather. I even remember a year it was sleeting. The same happens elsewhere in Europe. Just ask the British what is the typical weather for the Spring bank holiday… But in South Africa Spring Day is typically glorious spring weather – warm, sunny and beautiful.
Having a business breakfast outside in the morning was a great decision. The only problem was to motivate oneself to get back to the office.
I like shooting with very wide depth of field and push the boundaries on ‘almost HDR’ (with a single image, tho). But it is early summer and the little details are so much more beautiful than the whole.
Merlin has a real talent in finding mud. After several month of dry season, he still manages to get muddy on almost any walk – and whenever we let him out in the mornings. We have white tile floors in the living room and kitchen, and every paw print is visible – but luckily easy to clean. But let’s not talk about the bedroom carpet.
South Africans love rain. For a Finn, that is hard to understand. Intellectually, I understand rain is necessary after 6 months of dry season. I may even enjoy the fresh air after the downpour when all the dust settles. But I don’t enjoy rain itself. And South Africans truly do. I guess that for a country where succulent plants are the norm, it is (somewhat) understandable.
A colleague made me laugh last year. My parents were flying to Johannesburg, and the forecast promised rain for the entire weekend. Very sweetly she came to me, and from the bottom of her heart wished that the forecast would be correct, and we would have proper rain for my parents. For her that was the best thing she could wish for. For a Finn, that is the very last thing you wish on your holiday!
Blue Moment 