When I see tunnels, I always imagine a portal to another world — not as a metaphor, but almost literally.
The arches of the tunnel frame a passage into the unknown. Inside, for a moment, you are between: the past stays behind, the future has not yet begun. Nothing moves except you and your car. You almost physically feel the shift in space and time — you slow down, turn on your headlights, the radio falls silent, passengers grip their seats tighter. The old reality disappears.
And then a new one appears, foreign and uncharted. You might emerge from pouring rain into bright sunlight, from mountain fog onto open ocean vistas, from the noise of a city into the silence of a desert road.
I love taking pictures of tunnels on my travels. They remind me: always move toward the future — even when the road leads through darkness.
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