There is something noticeably different about our daylight. Almost one month since winter solstice, our day has already increased by fifty minutes, a difference that can certainly be perceived.
This past weekend as I stood in our kitchen preoccupied with my own thoughts, the silhouette of our birch suddenly caught my eye, as it stood illuminated by the setting sun, against an evening sky defined by peach and iris blue coloured hue. The day has aged into twilight, my favorite kind of light. I love the time of dusk, with its contagious stillness and enchanted atmosphere.
As I stood there watching, the surroundings grew the hue of tangelo. I had to walk out, camera in my hand, witnessing a natural wonder, while the beauty of the first visible mid winter sunset unfolded through the barren trees in our backyard. The amber coloured skies created a sense of preview of what is to come, as winter moves into the second half of its reign.
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.