It happens to me again and again. I stop and take notice. Something has changed. It’s as if the wind has died down. The sounds fade, and everything hums with a sense of calm and nothingness. A kind of magic that envelops the summer nights, transforming the vibrant days filled with experiences into quiet evenings where peace and serenity take hold.
It’s in these magical moments that I feel connected to myself and become aware of where I am—not surprised by the surroundings or any particular event, but rather by the fact that it has happened without me noticing. A fleeting blink of awareness that another sunlit day is coming to an end.
The evening approaches, the sun dances its last rays through the treetops, the air grows thicker, more humid, and the maquis more fragrant. Colors become more vivid, tiny insects come into view, and yes, it’s true… this is when Corsican magic emerges.
These are the moments in Corsica that I remember best. These are the moments I feel most deeply and miss the most when I’m not there. They remind me of my childhood, a time before the internet, social media, and all these constant interruptions from texts and updates I need to keep up with.
The moments are easily recognizable by their perfect presence, where even the faintest rustling of the leaves is noticed, and the tiny ants crawling across my foot are observed with care. These are the moments that form the complete essence of my being in a world where everything feels right.
Because, truly, it does.
But it’s not just within my own little world that I sense a change. It’s as if the sun’s long rays touch the wildflowers and shrubs, giving them new colors. A transformation truly takes place.
Eastern Corsica has the advantage of the sun always setting behind the mountains. This creates the most beautiful silhouettes and light. Suddenly, all the flowers and shrubs stand out in a new context. Especially when you lie down completely in it—or get up close.
I love these late moments. With a camera in hand, there’s nothing better than breathing in the scent of the Corsican maquis in the final hours of the evening. It gives me that bubbling feeling of being at home, even though home is usually in the Nordic cold with its cool hues.
But maybe that’s just one of the many things Corsica can do? Make you feel at home? As if its nature reflects a kind of nature I know all too well myself?
Corsica bears witness to a long and dramatic history. And it’s especially when I stand and gaze up at the island’s towering mountains that I sense its proud culture and longing for independence. It’s when I see the mountains that I’m reminded of bygone bandits, vendettas, glory and decline. Of family feuds that wiped out entire villages, Napoleon, and a longstanding desire to break free from France.
It’s also the occasionally harsh, rugged mountains blended with the sun’s delicate hues of pale yellow, orange, and pink that remind me of the importance of embracing contrasts in life. Not just for beauty or excitement, but for the balance of simply being. A balance that can sometimes be hard to achieve, yet one that these late Corsican evenings help to restore.
I think I understand it.
The last rays set over Corsica’s mountains. Another magical summer day in eastern Corsica has come to an end.
A new adventure is about to begin.
