When I think of Spain I never think of mountains. But they are right there, if I would wander deep enough inland. When the rest of the world thinks of beaches and sangria and sun-kissed villages, there is surprisingly much snow up North. Now I understand why the Great Pyrenees dog breed is so white and fluffy. (Above the Pyrenees, Spain; March 2017)
Last night I came home from Zurich. This morning I am going back down again, to Vienna. One could ask why I did not just stay in Zurich and fly directly to Vienna. Because: 1) I would not have been able to accompany my mother (in business class). And 2) I would not have been able to see this artsy snowy patchwork blanket that is Poland on a February morning.
(Yes, still posting with a terrible backlog. But keep reading, you will see wonderful photos of the most girly pretty city in Europe).
(Above Poland; February 2017)
De-icing at Helsinki airport is routine on nippy mornings. I’ve always wanted to replace the light-orange viscous liquid with shock pink. The airplanes taking off would look so much more cheery.
(Helsinki airport, Finland; December 2016)
Lighter times are coming. The sun hasn’t forgot about us.
(Above Stockholm; December 2016)
This is how humans take over the planet, and mold it to their liking. Qatar is a strange place from above. This is the land where it never rains. Possibly Southern Iran or Pakistan. The last resort for humans to mold, when everything else is utilized.
This is how we build vertically when we have no horizontal space. We cram hills and mountains with rice paddies and grazing areas for goats.
(Landing on Kathmandu airport is an art in itself, with or without rice paddies and goats)
(Above South Asia; November 2016)
The skies above Central Europe are crowded. Sometimes I can read the text painted on the airplane passing by. Fortunately, until now we have always been on slightly different heights. I wonder if the pilots have a way to greet each other, passing by?
(Somewhere above Europe; October 2016)
I am quite certain this 400 year-old gasthaus was alive last night. Either that, or the cold made the house shrink very loudly. Perhaps it moved a little, too… crept closer to the waterfront, if only anybody bothered to find out.
Fall has come to Stockholm. The tired sun barely throws its blanket off to say good morning as we land. Soon it will not even have the energy to get out of bed until way past 9 am.(Stockholm, Sweden; September 2016)