The first snow has come yesterday morning. I woke up and looked out of my window and saw tiny and delicate snowflakes falling from the sky. It’s still Autumn, but Winter is slowly moving here.
I remember as a child our teacher at school always telling us not to look at the snow, otherwise it would have stopped. This was obviously an excuse to gain our attention, and I knew it back then, but this idea – the snow being shy – has never abandoned me.
It was with awe and fascination that I got out of the house with my camera and went photographing. I had to take some test photos of the place at one of the locations where I’m going to shoot for my cousin’s wedding next week, so I took this chance and not limited my work to something pretty technical, but immersed into this white atmosphere.
What I love more than anything else when it snows is the silence. Almost surreal. Every sound softens, the colours too soften and melt into shades of white. I love the peace, and how this spinning world stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. And I take a deep breath.
I dipped into the whiteness. I disappeared, but the more I disappeared into that surreal landscape the more and more I was present with myself and focused. To stop for a moment, the time of a “click” of the shutter, letting all the thoughts go, and truly feel. The crisp breeze on my face, the delicate light caressing my retina, and the silence of nature filling my soul.
I begged the snow’s pardon for intruding and stealing my photos. When I got back home the snowflakes had ceased their light fall, but I guess they were not angry at me. Only shy, like every beauty who is not aware of how charming and fascinating it can be.
Marta Favro
