August 4, 2026

A short walk: a lighthouse at the end of the spit

The forecast promised rain, so naturally I headed to a lighthouse at the end of the spit. Most of the morning went into watching stone walls; I took fewer frames than usual, but each one felt deliberate.

I kept a paper notebook this time, writing down the time and the light for every roll. The path was muddy and longer than the map suggested, but the view at the end made up for it.

Walking back, I found a side street I had never noticed before, lined with tiny workshops. The light was strangely warm, and stone walls kept pulling my attention away from anything I had planned to photograph.

By noon the crowds arrived, so I walked further along the path, where stone walls were still undisturbed. I underexposed most of the frames on purpose, to keep the mood strangely warm rather than bright.

A light drizzle started around ten. I sheltered under a bus stop roof and photographed people hurrying past. Locals barely noticed me. A man feeding gulls told me the place looks completely different in spring.

Next time I want to try the same walk at sunset.