Crossing Seasons
It is the crossing of seasons in Oslo. Monday arrives with a cloudy, wet morning, softened by occasional rays of warm sun. The city feels quietly in preparation, not only for the new week, but for spring itself. Streets are being cleared, moving services are busy, and familiar social spots are under renovation and renewal. People cross the streets dressed in ways that do not quite match the weather. Colours are slowly returning. It feels good to leave winter behind.
Spring, along with Easter, is a special time to pick up the camera and let your eyes rest on fresh scenes after the long winter. Even without people in the frame, the day offered moments that caught my attention. Small details, new seasonal colours, and the geometry of both old and new architecture created quiet interest.
Each year, I become fully aware of spring, its beginning, its momentum, and its end. Over time, I have realised it is my favourite season. I try to appreciate every moment of it. A city after the rain, with sunlight breaking through the clouds, becomes a warm and inviting place. Looking through the viewfinder, I search for small curiosities and compositions. On this Monday morning, just after the rain, there is a subtle energy in the air. Colours begin to emerge, and details that once went unnoticed start to demand attention.
Sometimes it is difficult to know what to photograph. After all, I have seen this city many times before. But a warm breeze awakens curiosity. I find myself lowering closer to the pavement, drawn to small details that are easy to overlook. I become more playful. After this gentle warm up, it feels easier to press the shutter and walk through familiar streets with a renewed perspective.
This was also a day spent walking together as a photobreak team. We exchanged ideas, caught up, and observed each other’s ways of seeing. Our approaches differ, but every now and then we step into each other’s rhythm, borrowing moments from the same scene. Not every image from the day is strong, but there are enough to capture the feeling and leave a sense of wonder.These meetups are often more social than photographic, yet there is always the possibility of a meaningful frame.
It felt like the first truly warm day of spring, and already there is a quiet anxiety that it will pass too quickly. In Scandinavia, spring is short and summer even shorter. Over the years, I have learned to appreciate every good day and make the most of the light and warmth. There is something optimistic in a few sunlit frames before the day fades into sunset and it is time to head home, review the images, and select a few to share.
Spring feels like preparation. For summer, for the 17th of May, for holidays. After May, the intensity seems to slow, as if the emotions built over these two months come gently to rest. I am drawn to this quiet momentum. I value the movement of the seasons, and I continue learning how to reflect it in my photography.
Which season speaks to you the most?
