Sometimes I just forget how beautiful the city I live in is. I spent last Saturday in Ruissalo with my parents, just walking around absorbing the rarity of sunlight and admiring the snow-clad landscape. As you can see I also captured parts of it with my camera. It's fleeting moments like these that incite me to take photos - that's really how it all started. And I've always loved the fact that there's a sort of mysticism to beauty. What is it that ultimately evokes the emotions that we associate with beauty? Why are certain things considered beautiful while others are not? Is it purely culture bound or biological? Probably a little bit of both, but I wonder whether we'll ever be able to perfectly explain it.