This winter was simply bleak. I was looking forward to taking breathtaking images of the snowed-in and muffled city, with long dark shadows over the monochrome landscape, much like slender fingers reaching towards the horizon. Well, that didn’t happen. Snow only made a very brief appearance last month, like a streak of flowy hair that brushes against your cheek for a fleeting second and then it’s gone. After the holiday cheer passed with its bright lights and decorations, for most of the season the sky was marked by an almost uniform light greyish colour with the occasional darker streaks of rainfall. It was the shade of grey that bleached most colours and robbed everything of definition; shapes were still distinct but somehow softened around the edges, seemingly unable to cast any shadows.
At this point, I was very much coveting some sunshine to bring the shadows back and to remind my body of the heartwarming prospect of days spent outside without heavy layers of clothing. Finally, for the past two days, Brussels was rewarded by some sunshine. All the golden gildings gleam again, making everything look a tad more cheerful. I caught this net of delicate shadows cast by the window pane frames stretching overhead when I walked through Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert, the famed glazed shopping arcade, more precisely the part called Galerie de la Reine (the Queen’s Gallery). Bye bye shades of grey, hello colour spectrums. Light and shadow, we missed you both.