Today was one of those “why do I live here” weather days. The sky was heavy, the canal looked like brushed steel, and the trees were standing around completely naked, no shame, no leaves, just vibes.
And yet, every time I stepped out for a short walk, yes short, I learned my lesson yesterday, it stayed dry. Not beautiful. Not inspiring. Just dry enough to get the job done. Thirty minutes of peace, then like clockwork, the rain started again a few meters before my door. Three times. I am either blessed or being lightly trolled by the universe.
The canal shots came out moody in the best way. Dark water reflecting skeletal trees, clouds layered like someone forgot to adjust the contrast. It had that quiet, brooding energy that makes you walk a little faster but also stop to frame the shot properly. Because if it’s going to be dramatic, we might as well make it cinematic.
And then there it was.
A crocus. Bright yellow. Absolutely disrespectful to the season.
Surrounded by dead leaves and damp grass, covered in tiny rain droplets, it looked like it had forced its way through the soil just to prove a point. The background was still stuck in late winter denial. The flower had already moved on.
That’s what I love about carrying a camera. You go out expecting grey and come back with evidence. Proof that things are shifting even when the sky says otherwise.
Winter is still hanging around, sulking by the canal.
But spring just slipped a note under the door.
And honestly, it’s wearing yellow, as do I!
All photos are my own, shot on my iPhone and sometimes edited in Lightroom.
AI images? Those are created by me too, using my own prompts.
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