March is most likely the last month I get the pleasure to enjoy the flickering warmth of the fire on regular bases.
Soon, as the spring sun will grow stronger and when the winds settle down, my terrace will once again become my favorite spot to relax, retiring my fireplace for the season.
Fire has always held my fascination. Perhaps it is the connection I feel with the ancient man, when fire truly meant life. It offered so much to our predecessors in terms of safety, warmth and companionship.
The scientist in me is also endlessly intrigued by the consistency of the amber coloured flames, which resemble nothing else one can recognize. An airy magma, a fleeting, burning shape, that alters and changes within a microsecond, to disappear and reappear rapidly, a hypnotic show, that causes us to get lost in in time and space.
Everyone who has ever tried to photograph a fire knows it is not an easy task. To capture the dancing flames, as they jump back and forth is a true undertaking. But if one is persistent, once in a while the camera lens immortalizes an enchanting moment.
Brushstrokes of light, science and natural art combined in one.
I was born under the Tatra Mountains, to a Czech father and a Slovak mother. I grew up in Sweden and lived almost ten years in North Carolina.
More than a decade ago my line of work took me to Denmark, where I live today. My home, which I share with the man that holds my heart, lies in the northerly part of a Danish peninsula, in the proximity of endless, wide and pristine westbound sandy beaches, surrounded by the rough and untamed North Sea.
My writing is defined by reflections on my cosmopolitan past and my intriguing present. Ultimately I try to convey in words and images my personal thoughts and feelings about life itself, with all its magic, natural splendour and the beauty of simple pleasures.