By Districts

An early morning mist over the river at Majuli can be a breathtaking scene. The soft veil of mist wraps around the river, shrouding it in a mysterious and peaceful atmosphere. The gentle sound of the river breaking through the mist creates a calming ambience. The sun slowly rises, spreading its warm light over the island, and as the mist dissipates, the stunning beauty of Majuli is revealed.

The world is filled with scary, mean things. It's easy to be afraid. But even in the hard times, there's a lot of love and kindness out there. That's what Banksy is all about.

It's always amazing to me how poetic photography can be. The way the light falls, the shadows that break through with their density that could put palettes to shame and the often spontaneous moment, capable of stopping time...long enough for me to capture the ultimate photograph.

A maisonette of life
Like pies upon pies
The houses stand
One from the other
with almost no separations
Yet, each to his own
Residing behind a different door,

The tiny houses stacked so high
They almost reach the sky
Yet, if the walls could truly talk
They surely wouldn't lie
They'd tell the tales
of years gone by
When life was simple for you and I
When homemade pies
and crusted bread

It's too early, 3.00 am in the little town of Stavanger, wake up the moss is slippery, and scree boulders as I hike up to Preikestolen in the dark. For hours step by step along the mountain ridge, please stand with me among the white clouds to see the sunrise and the glistening Fjords below.

Blisters on my toe, rain, and wind sweeping across my back. I've been pinned down to the side of the mountain, drenched with mid-summer rain. I've followed the rickety trail faithfully since dawn, but It's uninspiring, depressing and gloomy.

Like in the movies, huge flames leap out from the massive crater. The temperatures had plummeted to -2°C, still warm as I stood by the glowing hole. The jagged edges were threatening to give way. Middle of the Karakum desert, the Darvaza gas crater has been illuminating the night sky for the last three decades, creating an orange glow that can be seen for miles.

I spent hours watching the river flow by. I was wondering where she flows. What wild things must that waters have seen along the way from its journey through Bosnia and Herzegovina to the pebbles beneath my feet.

The first rays of sunlight illuminate the vast caldera upon which lies Mt. Bromo. A lonely horseman rides. The landscape had this desolate beauty, and I watched as he stopped at the ridge. The first gleam of morning rays sharpened them both.

At last, I was surrounded by the wilderness. Cresting upon the ridge of the mountain, I climbed; somewhere on the island of east java. Spreading out below me is a landscape filled with a sea of mist, mile after mile slowly burning away to the morning sun. The glory is his, and the moment... yes, the moment is mine.

I've walked, climbed and slept in ancient ruins while hiking the Inca Trail, a path of an ancient tribe that once worshipped the sun, moon and stars. Six days later completely exhausted but excited to see the first glimpse of the lost city of Machu Picchu.