I don’t really remember where I took this photo. All I remember is the silhouette… and that soft, orange morning glow.
Sometimes that’s all that sticks.
Not the place.
Not the details.
Just the feeling.
I don’t really remember where I took this photo. All I remember is the silhouette… and that soft, orange morning glow.
Sometimes that’s all that sticks.
Not the place.
Not the details.
Just the feeling.
Great morning mountain bike ride around the Maas river.
And perfect Sunday morning.
Paradise for taking photos… the fog difused the light perfectly. Everything looked like I was in a movie.
Early morning just outside of Limbricht.
I took this photo to remember how good the morning felt.
One of those you know you’ll want to come back to later.
I rode my mountain bike into the nearby woods, set up a small camp, made a cup of fresh coffee, and just sat there for a bit.
Quiet.
Cold air.
Nothing else going on.
After that, I continued on to Born and took a few more photos around the dyke.
Just moving, stopping, and letting the morning unfold.
One of my favourite mornings.
Frozen, fresh, beautiful and peaceful is exactly what I need right now.
Shot from Kollenberg, Sittard
As a kid, January was my favourite month of the year because of the snow we used to get in Karviná — deep, heavy powder that made every day feel like pure fun.
Build bunkers.
Build snowmen.
Build slides and igloos.
Endless play until it got dark.
Golden days.
Simple joy.
These days?
Here?
Hmm.
You might’ve heard about Russia’s far east… the town of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky… where record snowfall this winter buried the place under metres of snow.
The heaviest snowfall in decades.
Drifts so deep people had to dig tunnels just to get around.
It’s wild.
Hardcore.
But at least it’s the kind of winter you’ll remember forever.
You’ll remember that winter.
That’s what makes it interesting.
Honestly…
I wish something memorable would happen here.
Something where you’d look back and say:
Fuck… that was an amazing winter.
Morning shot from Sanderbout, Sittard
A bridge crossing over the railway tracks.
The sky is on fire, but everything else is still.
Empty paths.
Light reflecting off the windows.
People already at work. Already deep into their 9–5s.
And I’m here…
Grateful for this moment.
Grateful that I’m able to stand here, walk these empty paths, and take it all in — knowing that some people can’t.
Some people wish they could, but for whatever reason, they simply can’t.
And that thought hits hard.
So yeah… I’m here.
And I’m incredibly grateful.
I ask myself that a lot when I’m out with the camera.
Not just looking — actually seeing.
Photography slows me down.
Forces me to stop and notice what’s right there.
This time it was the sun.
Right in front of me.
And the real question wasn’t whether I took the shot…
but whether I was present for it.
“Light is the key. Orson Welles said it. Light is the key.”
— James Nachtwey
And there you have it.
From the master himself.
Light really is the key to any photograph… but not all light is equal.
I just love getting slammed right in the face by sunlight first thing in the morning.
That moment when the day starts, everything wakes up, and you’re there with a camera in your hand… that’s just great feeling.
Embrace it.
Live it.
Make the best of it.
I know nothing is ever perfect. There’s always something that could be better. But this morning was an exception.
I just loved the light.
Cold, crisp air filled with soft golden tones, creating beautiful reflections on the frozen pond around Kasteel Limbricht.
Everything worked.
The light.
The colours.
The stillness.
It felt really good to be there… just standing around, taking photos, and soaking it all in.
I took this shot just as the sky started to change. Simple composition, minimal elements, and clean lines.
What really made it work was the colour palette.
Soft oranges in the sky against the light purple and blues in the shadows.
These colours doing all the heavy lifting.
No distractions.
No chaos.
Sometimes that’s exactly what I need
There are days when I don’t feel like doing anything.
But then I push myself — and about 97% of the time, I’m glad I dragged my butt off the couch and went out for a ride.
This time it was foggy.
I didn’t expect it to clear.
Didn’t expect the sun to break through at all.
But then it did.
And when it did, it lit up the whole forest like it was on fire.
Amazing morning.
One of those where you’re really glad you pushed yourself.
What you’re looking at is a shot of the basilica in Sittard, taken at sunrise.
One morning I woke up to this.
Stepped onto the balcony and was greeted by some of the most beautiful light I’ve seen in a while.
I grabbed my zoom lens and took the shot.
The reflections on the water got me.
So peaceful.
So quiet.
It was one of those really beautiful sunsets.
I was happy just being in Sittard, walking around and taking photos without any rush. Later I made my way into the city centre as well.
Slow walk.
Good light.
All in all…
…a fantastic evening.