A curious yellowhammer observed me carefully during a winter walk near the Warta Valley — most birds flew away, but this one stayed
It was meant to be an ordinary walk — one of those gentle winter afternoons when the air softens and the low light warms everything it touches. I was moving slowly along the edge of the fields near the river valley, not searching for anything in particular.
Continue reading A Curious Yellowhammer in the Warm Winter Light
A peaceful chapel nestled in the Tatras, where faith, perseverance, and community endure.
While my son was skiing in Małe Ciche, near Zakopane, I found the perfect excuse to leave behind the ski slopes and take a snowy hike with my camera. As I walked through the quiet hills, the world seemed to slow down, and then I came across something unexpected — a small chapel hidden within the folds of the Tatra Mountains.
Continue reading Faith in the Folds of the Tatras
Frost-covered birches during a quiet winter walk — a short return of winter near the frozen lake
Winter returned for a few days — just enough to quietly reshape the landscape once again. When the frost settled overnight and the trees turned pale and white, I picked up the camera and headed out to a few of my favorite nearby locations. Places I return to often, in different seasons, knowing that even a small change in weather can completely alter their mood.
Continue reading Winter, Briefly
A quiet winter walk — frost, muted light, and snow kept neutral to preserve a calm, welcoming winter mood
Winter has its own rhythm. For me, it usually starts around mid‑November, when roads turn white not just from snow, but from salt — and riding outside slowly gives way to hours on the indoor trainer. Long walks replace long rides, and the camera becomes an excuse to step outside when the cold feels sharpest.
Continue reading Keeping Winter Quiet — A Frosty Edit with a Warm Heart ❄️
There’s a lake near my home — close enough for an unplanned visit, yet distant enough to feel like a small escape. I come here often, especially in the evening, when the light begins to soften and the day slows down. Sunset has a way of doing that — turning a familiar lakeside view into something briefly new.
Continue reading Waiting for the Light to Leave — A Winter Evening by the Lake
A young roe deer buck pauses in a snowy field, surprised by an unexpected encounter on a winter walk
Winter arrived suddenly this week — the kind of winter I remember from childhood. Not the hesitant, half-hearted versions we’ve had lately, with mud instead of snow and temperatures that never really commit. This one came quietly but decisively: frost in the mornings, fields turning white overnight, and that familiar crunch underfoot.
Continue reading A Proper Winter, at Last
As one year fades into another, I want to wish you a New Year filled with movement, curiosity, and moments worth remembering.
Continue reading A New Year, Full of Light
The walk wasn’t planned around birds — it rarely is.
It was one of those late autumn afternoons when the sky feels thin and undecided, pale with mist, as if the day is already halfway gone.
Early snow and a quiet November sunrise — the first sign that winter arrived ahead of time
This year, winter didn’t bother knocking.
It simply walked in — quietly, unexpectedly — on a cold November morning.
The first snow arrived much earlier than anyone around here was ready for. While last year I waited until the end of December to see even a dusting of white, this November greeted me with a thin, crisp layer of snow softening the entire landscape. The air felt different, too — sharper, stiller — as if the world was holding its breath before the true start of winter. Even the sound seemed muted, wrapped in that familiar snowy hush, with only the faint crunch of my boots breaking the silence.
Continue reading When Winter Arrived Early — First Snow of the Season
I didn’t plan to take wildlife photos that day. It was just a slow recovery walk after a few harder bike workouts — the kind of quiet stroll I sometimes take around the outskirts of my town. The fields there look almost empty at this time of year — ploughed soil, cold air, a touch of wind, and that late-autumn stillness that feels like everything is already waiting for winter. Even though it’s only a few hundred metres from my house, once you step off the road it becomes a surprisingly quiet, open space, wrapped in the soft, earthy smell of damp soil and the faint rustle of dry plants.
Continue reading A Quiet Encounter on My Recovery Walk
A quiet moment of late autumn — a tree mirrored in still water as the last light of the day fades
Late autumn photography has its own quiet charm — calm, muted, and fleeting. Many November days are wrapped in fog, the fields soaked by rain, and sunlight is rare. But every now and then, the clouds part for a few hours. That’s when I take my camera, get on the bike, and wander through the nearby fields, hoping to catch a glimpse of light before it disappears again.
Continue reading Between Autumn and Winter: Two Views of a Familiar Tree
A curious vole peeks out of its burrow for a brief moment before disappearing again
During a family walk to a small lake near our house in central Poland, my son suddenly pointed toward the grass and whispered that something was moving. We stopped and waited. For a moment, nothing happened — only the faint rustle of dry stems and the cool scent of damp leaves carried by the evening air.
Continue reading A Curious Visitor Before Winter 🐭
Shutter and Saddle 