It doesn't take much to invent an entire story.

All seagulls fall into two categories: those who study the sea, and those who study human nature.

We usually see landmarks as if they exist on their own, but cities rarely work that way.

Cities look surprisingly ordinary after the rain.

When I first arrived on Montenegro’s Adriatic coast, spring was in no hurry to give way to summer.

Summer is usually easy to picture in bright colors...

Distance creates silence.

Nothing evokes more nostalgia for me than my first photos from Greece, taken on that trip to the island of Crete.

Somewhere over Türkiye, where the sea meets the mountains and the clouds drift above both.

Two ways of looking into the distance.

Just another day at the bottom.

Ducks are rather pragmatic when it comes to sleep.

One evening, while we were out for a walk in the city, two stray kittens and their mother tagged along with us.

In Funchal, music feels perfectly natural — blending in with the sounds of the city and the chatter of passersby.

Distance seems straightforward enough.

A city is defined by its boundaries and surfaces.

Yesterday’s post was all about stone, so today I’ll stay with the same theme.

Just outside the little village of Papingo in Greece, there’s a series of small natural rock pools.

The Corinth Canal turned out to be one of those places that are difficult to appreciate in advance.

Looking for symmetry, perspective, and a little more sky.