Trip to Falsterbro lighthouse

You know the person you’ve been expecting that show up way too early? The spring is like that this year. As the “Old Lady” ( the dream boat ) cuts through the soft “new feel” breeze, I notice the subtle chances the spring is bringing. New feel on the skin, temperature and smells. Even the hues in the light are different; like the sun shines through a new fresh set of clouds. The course is set towards Skannør, Sweden.

Flash back to last weekend where I ended up in Backviken on the Swedish Island of Hven. Located in the middle of Øresund and know for it’s darkness it is a perfect place to photograph in the dark. A night excursion amounted to this photo.

The hunt is now on for another Lighthouse to photograph. There is something enchanting about them. A beacon for safe passing that stands tall and solid through whatever nature throws at it. South of Skannør is the one of the oldest : Falsterbro Lighthouse.

Located in the intersection of 2 main traffic channels, she can only be photographed by crossing the channels. It is not allowed to stop and linger in the channel to photograph Drogden.

With the sun setting into a red glowing sky, I pass another lighthouse. Perhaps the most challenging to photograph; Drogden Lighthouse.

I snap this one of Drogden lighthouse and feel lucky for the moment to pan out this gorgeus. This could be classified as a snapshot.

Even though I’ve been to Skannør before, it was still that boyish wonder of being a new place that came to my soul when the last mooring went around the cleats. Skannør is a typical seasonal harbour and now….was off season. No people or activity in sight.

Uniquely for this Archipalago of Sweden is the surreal sand beaches. Super clean with fine grains of sand. As I snap this picture of a lifeguard house under chilly starry skies; I can imagine a lot of beach guests enjoying this little slice of Sweden in warm summer times.

It’s around 10 pm and I’m looking at the Falsterbro lighthouse in the distance. When you do long exposure photography you automatically get moments to be present. In the horizon behind the watch towers you can see streaks of light. Ships in the south and south west that converge in the traffic lanes. My thought goes to what is happening on the bridge of the dozens of ships in sight… Do they use or see the light of this old tower? Maybe they are watching a film insted?

The phone jumps on the table at 5 am and the quick thought of “why the hell did I do this” goes through my head. I manage to get some coffee and food down and before I know it, I hear the old dock bridge creak under me.

The harbor is empty and quite. Not even a whisper in the rigging.

The night sky is open and clouds seems to be on a rarity this morning. It’s a fresh air and I can feel my mind and body waking up with the fresh night air, or rather early morning air. The photo says everything….tonight the moon and the sun are truly one of the same,

The morning is perfectly clear and the headlamp rarely have to be turned on to illuminate the path ahead. Along the coastal pathway lies colorful dorment bricks between me and the beach. I make a mental note to remember them on the way back. They deserve a low harsh color popping sunlight.

Falsterbro lighthouse is still lit as I notice the sun warming up the horizon to the east; I still have steps to thread before I reach the beacon. I hurry.

I reach the lighthouse with a split sky on top of me. The sun have illuminated most of the skies to east and clouds are starting to form as small minions tasked with moving the night sky. As I wander around the Lighthouse base I notice that it has character. Dents in the bricks, discoloration and a design that seems forgotten. Above the main entrance to the tower itself it is written : 1793. Makes me wonder of how many special times the construction have felt and seen. Storms, showers, snow, bad days, good days, people, lovers, desperate souls. If old material could speak.

It is not the picture I had imagined in my mind when i sat out this morning, but behind this final image lies this text; this story. And that is what matters. The stuff behind the goal; and in between the A and B.

On the way back to the old lady I’m greeted with the wonderfull soft pastel colours a sleepy firery red sun can create over the landscape. As the harsh sunrays struggle to illuminate everything the soft reflective light creates these amazing colors.

Remember the colour full bricks I mentioned? The 4 km back to the harbour, they are my company. My eyes hunt for a composition or contrasts colours that will make an interesting photo of these cute bathing cottages. The entire coast is covert with them, and I wonder how people tell them apart because there are no numbers on them?

At 9 am the engine in the belly of old Frigg turns and we slowly ease out of the harbor. We both have a bad memory of jumping on the bottom in the narrow channel in front of the harbor This time we go out without any acrobatics. There’s a weak breeze but with full sails we glide over a smooth sea with 4-5 knots. The springs seems to own this day. Looking at the sails i smile by the fact that they have not stood without a reef in, for a long time.