Sometimes I feel as if...
...the rush is all there is. The rush to make it to the train, the rush toward the city; people flooding it, people moving toward it one inch at the time. Nature is still there, but slowly fading. Concrete moves and swallows, but the nature of ourselves, of humans, and of nature itself, still breathes like dandelions breaking through the concrete.

I took these photographs at the end of this summer when Nils Söderman was visiting from the North of Sweden. We spent a day venturing along the streets of Stockholm and in the nearby area and tried to capture it through the lenses of our cameras.

PART I - To the city
"I don't want to rush but I must not miss the train to the running city."
To the City. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
I don't want to rush... Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
...but I must not miss the train... Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
...to the running city. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
The Human Race. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
Small Bird, Big World. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
Station. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
The Thinker and the Thought. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
The Little Gardens that Remain. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
PART II - In the Running City

"The human race is a never ending one. We keep running and running and running, and only truly rest when we are trapped in the soil. And then we keep on spinning with the earth, forever."
In the Running City. Stockholm, Sweden.
'We want our Sorrow to End'. Gamla Stan, Stockholm, Sweden.
On Guard. Stockholm Palace, Stockholm, Sweden.
Flags to Infinity. Stockholm, Sweden.
The End of Society. Stockholm, Sweden.
Stilled Walker. Stockholm, Sweden.
Tilted World. Stockholm, Sweden.
Beyond the Green. Stockholm, Sweden.
Urban Fishermen. Stockholm, Sweden.
Nature on Concrete. Stockholm, Sweden.
Nature Still Watching. Stockholm, Sweden.
Soldiers of Stone. Stockholm, Sweden.
The Nature of Learning. Kungliga Tekniska Högskolan (KTH), Stockholm, Sweden.
Green Intertwined. Stockholm, Sweden.

PART III - Fleeing to the Country

"Only in the country can I feel the clear wind rustle my hair. Only in the country can I sense the undisturbed grass beneath my feet. Only in the country am I alive."
Fleeing to the Country. Universitetet, Stockholm, Sweden.
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