Sunday morning began in silence. No sound, no wind, only gentle light over the mountains. I was out early. The sun was low, casting a faint reflection on the lake. The air was mild, unusually soft for the season, and everything seemed peaceful, almost dreamlike.<\/p>\n
I sat on the shore, drinking my coffee and eating a small breakfast as the day slowly took shape. It was that moment when autumn was saying goodbye but winter was still hesitating. Colours were fading, the light was becoming clearer, and the landscape seemed to hold its breath before something new began. There was nobody around. Only the sound of a distant stream and the gentle lapping of water at the shore accompanied the morning. Nothing hurried or demanded anything. It was as though nature had given itself a moment of rest.<\/p>\n
As a Berliner who has made his home in Norway, I often long for exactly these moments.
\nFor almost 25 years, these trips into open, solitary nature have quietly but profoundly enriched my life.
\nThey give me more than photographs. They bring clarity, a sense of being grounded and the feeling that I have arrived.<\/p>\n
I love these in-between seasons. When the year is changing without having decided what it will become. When the sky still looks warm, even though there is already snow on the mountains. In moments like these, seeing slows down and thoughts become clearer.<\/p>\n
Days like this remind me why I go outdoors. Not to find something spectacular, but to discover what is simple.
\nA quiet lake, gentle light, a sense of timelessness and the thought that transition may be the most beautiful state of all.<\/p>\n