“The South of France is a sunny place for shady people.” - Somerset Maugham.
I love seaside resorts off-season. There is a mix of slow motion, day dreaming and a touch of sadness anticipating the buzzing summer which is already waiting around the corner. The empty promenades, usually filled with laughter and footsteps, now echo only the soft whispers of the sea. Even the sky feels heavier, as if it, too, is aware of the inevitable rush that will soon consume everything. In this quiet, there’s an intimacy—between the place and those few who stay behind. But in this stillness, there’s a beauty, a kind of fragile serenity that can only exist before the tide of life comes crashing back in. It's bittersweet, like a memory you know will fade with time, but for now, it lingers in the cold breeze, in the empty beaches, in the quiet anticipation.
