WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN
2018
Nuno Perestrelo
It started on the first day of December. That morning I woke up and the landscape surrounding me had abruptly changed. The flocks of snow had covered everything in a single night, and it would be like that for the following six months.
I go out and suddenly everything is majestically silent, I can barely hear even my own footsteps. Snow has this weird ability to quiet everything down.
The landscape, the animals, the cars. As the sun goes down and further day, everything goes smoother and even the landscape becomes somehow abstract to a point you wouldn’t recognise some of parts it before the snow arrived.
These photographs were made in the North of Sweden, where I’ve lived between 2012 and 2014. They are a personal tribute to that particular period and place.
2018
Nuno Perestrelo
It started on the first day of December. That morning I woke up and the landscape surrounding me had abruptly changed. The flocks of snow had covered everything in a single night, and it would be like that for the following six months.
I go out and suddenly everything is majestically silent, I can barely hear even my own footsteps. Snow has this weird ability to quiet everything down.
The landscape, the animals, the cars. As the sun goes down and further day, everything goes smoother and even the landscape becomes somehow abstract to a point you wouldn’t recognise some of parts it before the snow arrived.
These photographs were made in the North of Sweden, where I’ve lived between 2012 and 2014. They are a personal tribute to that particular period and place.