Chasing the Setting Sun: Orange, Violet and Red, colours, a walk with my daughter and a story...

Saturday, a day where I normally try to stay at home and not do too much. On this occasion, I wanted to do the opposite. I needed a day of walking and connecting with my young daughter. I didn't tell her where we were going, or why we were walking aimlessly. I just needed her to be comfortable and in exercise clothes. So, I waited for her to arrive from her Saturday dance class, and after a brief lunch and waiting for the sun to lower its usual intensity at this time of year, I began with my little accomplice to pursue utopia, as the poets say; that is, to follow the trail of the last light of each day of the sun. A sunset in red, orange and violet.

This is how this story begins. Where the hours that presage the arrival of the night combine their colours and provoke in the firmament a mixture that has fascinated mankind since time immemorial. I discovered that my daughter is a fantastic and brilliant girl. She told me that in class, her teacher explained to her why at certain times of the year, some colours seem to be more visible in the sky than at other times of the year. She told me that the sky seems "infinite", and according to her vision, it is as if "we were in a huge fishbowl" but "where we cannot see those who have bought it".

You tell me, don't you find this reasoning fascinating enough? I certainly do. What's more, it is these micro-moments that I find totally connecting and awe-inspiring. At her age, I was nowhere near 10 percent of what she is now able to grasp and relate to. That premise that "each generation is fitter and smarter than the last" is not only overwhelmingly true, it is fascinating. Depending on where you are in the world, children are not usually told certain things, but I feel that with my daughter, I could talk about everything.... I am very proud of that.

From a few years ago until today, I have made it my goal to ensure that the union between my daughter and me is one of pleasant moments, complicit but also rich in substance. I didn't have them with my mother, and my father, although a good man, always kept that "man's distance" that I never understood. Therefore, I like to see how my baby and I contemplate optical phenomena that any human can appreciate as beautiful, but understanding what makes them possible. Also, I think she is beginning to like photography because of my influence, and many of the scenarios you see in the photographs were suggested by her.

Undoubtedly she became a detective of light. Someone who found the best shadows and the best locations to capture that beauty that we all, in almost every place in the world, can see, but don't stop long enough to admire and enjoy. That, at least for me, is poetry. The same that Eduardo Galeano and Dylan Thomas used to compose, perhaps not with their verbal skill, but with a fascination for the contemplative, the beautiful and the human bonds. The same ones that give strength, meaning and transcendence to the love of mother and daughter.

This is a story that has no objective, only to emphasise the feelings and emotions of a couple who go out to break with boredom and do so trying to frame the beauty of an instant of a photo; and then, to capture it in a bunch of words, with the desire that they be read and interpreted as they were felt at the time. Undoubtedly, a difficult and unprovable task, but if it generates empathy and connection, I am convinced and satisfied. My weekend experience is this; with my best company and the hobby I have loved most and best: motherhood and photography.

All photographs have been taken by me, and are by me and my daughter.