24 Hours Around the World

On Thursday, March 26, we asked enRoute photographers to show us a moment from their current reality, wherever they may be in the world. The responses give us the chance to take a trip across the globe through their eyes, and a lesson: The beauty in what we are collectively living through right now lies in rediscovering the power of personal connections. This collaborative photo essay is our community’s effort to bring us all a little bit closer.
 
 
 

Little flower buds on the sidewalk near my house. — Chantale Lecours (@votre_histoire.co)
 

Every day I go for a walk around the block. I love to take it slow and look around for flowers and signs that spring is here. This morning I brought my camera and photographed these little cuties.
 
 

Sunrise at Bittangabee Bay. — Peter Tarasiuk (@petertarasiuk)
 

I woke up early to go fishing. While self–isolating in the Australian bush in my camper van, it’s hard not to be inspired as I’m surrounded by pristine nature.
 
 

Lake of the Isles, in Minneapolis, beginning to thaw. — David Guttenfelder (@dguttenfelder)
 

Life for many here has always revolved around this protected lake chain in the middle of the city, just two miles from downtown. That may be especially true now, as people come here for the fresh air and open space while keeping a safe distance from others.

I live a block from where Lake Bde Maka Ska and Lake of the Isles join under a stone bridge. For more than two weeks, I’ve been in an self–imposed, semi–quarantine since returning from my work travels. I mostly stay in the furnished attic of my home, isolated as much as possible from all others outside and mostly apart from my family. But at sunrise I walk down to the lake alone. I’ve been a documentary and news photographer for close to 25 years. I’m used to running towards a crisis and finding purpose with my camera. There’s a voice in my head now that oscillates between “go out and help” and “stay inside and protect.” For now, I’ve decided that the right and best work I can do is to wait.
 
 

My wild boy Lius Ocean Wong. — Norman Wong (@norman__wong)
 

Working from home is next to impossible with this Tasmanian devil. When this guy naps or sleeps it’s my time to dream and breathe.
 
 

My husband and the dogs sunbathing in our country house. — Daphné Caron (@daph.nico)
 

Since the beginning of self–isolation, napping in the sun has become one of our daily rituals. Being stuck at home without work challenges me, but also helps me to reconnect with my creativity through other mediums like drawing and music.
 
 

My sister doing an online secondary school course. — Piero Percoco (@therainbow_is_underestimated)
 

For the first time in my life I am taking pictures in black and white. I’ve been watching many movies, including Antonioni’s L’avventura; this moment that we are all living and Antonioni’s black and white films have stimulated me to experiment with this new format.
 
 

Our daily dog walk on Cox Bay. — Lindsay Henwood (@lindsayhenwood)
 

In Tofino, we are still allowed to go for walks as long as we maintain distance from other people. This is a privilege we are so lucky to have and are careful to abide by.

I have been inspired by focusing on tighter landscapes and textures. I am always fascinated by the way light and shadow fold into the rock, sand and water.
 
 

Jen enjoys the morning light before jumping back into more calls with her team. — Ryan Walker (@ryanwalkerphoto)
 

This moment in time offers us the opportunity to appreciate the sun, which is beginning to shine brighter and longer as the spring brings us hope.

Despite the incredible upheaval in our lives, artists have come together to share resources, tips and insights into their creative process as we journey into the unknown together. This new sense of connectedness is proving to be a great source of inspiration.
 
 

My empty Brunswick studio. — Lauren Bamford (@laurenbamford)
 

Finally time to put things away, and head home to work from the kitchen table instead. Even though I’m in isolation at the studio, being there now feels lonelier than ever.

I’m staying inspired by cooking and stopping to smell the roses when out for walks with my two–year–old. (She wants to stop and smell every single one, and then go back and do it again and again until infinity.)
 
 

My dog Willy Nelson, a.k.a. Wild Bill, sitting in my spot at my work desk. — Alana Paterson (@alanapaterson)
 

I am toting my camera around with me for fun instead of for work for the first time in years. I stopped taking just random photos for myself of family and friends years ago and instead focused more on larger specific bodies of personal work when shooting for myself. Since then my shooting style has changed a lot so it is kind of fun to bring those two worlds together.
 
 

The mountains surrounding my house. — Dorothée Nowak (@doro_now)
 

Although mountains and forests in Japan are mostly dense with wild animals and unwelcoming, I am always drawn to them for their colours, sounds and beauty, which take different forms on sunny and rainy days.
 
 

As spring arrives and the snow melts, we discover what was buried underneath: life. Beauty. — Maude Chauvin (@maude_chauvin)
 

I found this outside my house. It is a symbol of what is happening. The planet kept reminding us it was already there, we just forgot to look. Now it’s in the open, the extraordinary in the ordinary.

When we slow down we see the simplicity of the beauty of life. And that is all there is. So we have to keep our eyes and our hearts open.
 
 

The poetic beauty of nature, found in our garden in the South of France. — L’œil d’Eos (@loeildeos)
 

It was raining today and the flowers were prettier than usual. Nature is a gift and we must cherish it.
 
 

A lonely skier. — Oivind Haug (@oivindhaug)
 

The normally crowded mountains are now nearly empty. Only people who live in the mountains can go skiing as travel to mountain cabins and weekend homes now are forbidden by law.

I have been learning new skills, shooting for my own pleasure and trying to enjoy life every day.
 
 

Our son, Pablo, playing on our terrace. — Michael Abril (@michaelabril_photo)
 

Because of the rules of voluntary isolation, we must stay indoors at all times. Every day we try to follow a routine and do activities to entertain our three–and–a–half–year–old. Here: soccer time, taking advantage of the good weather.

I’ve been getting back to basics and essentials, spending time with my son and trying to connect with his ability to fascinate with the simplest things.
 
 

“Le repos.” — Marianne Charland (@mariannecharland)
 

For the last two weeks, as confinement and social distancing settled into our lives, my three–year–old son, my husband and I have been spending our days together at home (except for our daily walk). Dad is teleworking while I’m taking care of our child. My only time “off” is during quiet time, which has replaced napping: today, as our child was playing quietly, I was surprised by the beauty of the silence in the house. I peeked in the room and saw: confinement, tiredness, freedom and well–being.

Documenting this special and precious time in our family life is my biggest inspiration. I’m blogging on a daily basis on my website: “Le temps tombé du ciel.”
 
 

My 13–year–old daughter Olivia enjoys the afternoon sun coming into her bedroom. — Gunnar Knechtel (@gunnarknechtel)
 

Me, my wife and two daughters haven't left the flat since the lockdown started on March 14. We try to keep a daily routine: exercise, healthy meals, enjoy the sunlight, play games and watch movies together. We are deeply grateful for the incredible efforts of the medical staff in Spain and around the world.
 
 

Strathcona Community Gardens, East Vancouver. — Andrew Querner (@andrewquerner)
 

Three weeks ago my family and I started rehabilitating a small plot here. A short walk from our home, it has become a refuge for the mind and body in what feels like a precarious time.

A smile exchanged between two passing strangers now holds meaning and significance that wasn’t there two weeks ago. I’m grateful for these small moments of connection and presence.
 
 

My favourite photo books. — Marco Arguello (@marcoandres)
 

Since I cannot leave my house due to lockdown, I wanted to share some of my favorite photo books that I have collected over the years. I would love to invite some of my fellow photographers and photo nerds to spend an afternoon swapping books and looking at the incredible work other photographers have made. In the meantime, I have been staying inspired by revisiting a lot of these books that I haven’t looked at in a while. At the same time, I hope whoever sees this image might discover someone new they haven’t heard of and take the chance to visit their website and maybe even support them by buying a print or book since artists (among others, of course) are really feeling the squeeze from this unprecedented situation we are in.

Artists featured: @therainbow_is_underestimated, @rinkokawauchi, @davidbrandongeeting, @maisiecousins, @gilleamtrapenberg, @rorosiemarie, @tinycactus, @pieter.hugo.official, @toiletpapermagazineofficial, @mollymatalon, @juan_brenner, @michal_chelbin, @inesdorey, @eirinivour, @vivianesassenstudio, @josepedrocortes, @bialobrzeski_peter, @kentandreasen, @stephenson_luke @mike__slack
 
 

Raised garden beds. — Rebecca Stumpf (@rebeccastumpf)
 

My partner and I have been building cold frames on our raised beds to get a jump start on the growing season. We’ve always been into growing our own food, but Covid–19 has been the impetus to grow more year–round food.

I’ve been keeping my camera with me at all times, photographing my “new life” around my house, and it is forcing me to see what was once a mundane part of my daily life with new eyes. I also try to do a daily creative practice that isn’t photography, like baking or taking slow time in my backyard, just listening to the quietness of life right now.
 
 

My daughter and her scooter at the neighbourhood handball court. — Gabriela Herman (@gab)
 

We can no longer go to the playgrounds so have been looking for other alternative open outdoor spaces to run around in. As a mom to two toddlers (ages 2 and 4) I’ve been using my children as inspiration to try and create new imagery every day with them, even if it’s just with an iPhone, like this one.
 
 

The view from my home office. — Jeremy Koreski (@jeremykoreski)
 

I’ve been staying inspired spending time working on edits that, until now, I haven’t had time now to focus on.
 
 

House plants. — Brendan George Ko (@brendangeorgeko)
 

Since I’m having to be indoors I gathered some plants to photograph.

I’ve been keeping productive by going through work I’ve been too busy to edit. That, and regularly calling friends and keeping the dialogue going.
 
 

Rainbows for our neighbours. — Jennilee Marigomen (@jennileem)
 

My children missed their friends, so we painted rainbows on our front windows so they could see them when they walk by.

I’m inspired by those in my community who are quarantining as an act of love for others, as opposed to an act of fear.
 
 

A single swan in Lake Ontario, Toronto. — Ian Patterson (@ian_patterson)
 

Swans are often found at the waterfront in Lake Ontario (Toronto) and although I’ve biked by them hundreds of times, I never noticed how tranquil their presence is. It’s a nice contrast during these stressful and uncertain times. I stopped and spent five minutes photographing this lone swan.

I am doing lots of solo long–distance bike rides. Fresh air and exercise is always key to keeping me motivated.
 
 

Sunlight in my kitchen. — Fred Lahache (@fredlahache)
 

My partner and I have barely seen the sun recently and we miss it. At least it has hit this precise spot in the kitchen a few minutes every day this week.

I try to keep inspired every day by observing these little things, and how our family (we have one kid) is keeping up and redefining itself, while being alone together.
 
 

My partner, Emily, lies down in the forest behind our house and peers up at the canopy. — Kari Medig (@kari_medig)
 

A woman nearby was hugging a big cedar for 10 minutes, “You don’t need to social distance with trees,” she said. We’re lucky to have the mountains in our backyard, as well as plenty of trails and alleys to quietly explore. Right now we’re still able to get out every day, skiing up to ridges, watching spring arrive.
 
 

The view from my rooftop in the Los Feliz neighborhood. — Brad Torchia (@bradtorchia)
 

Being able to get outside, follow the light and simply find space mentally is the most important thing during this strange time. It gets pretty claustrophobic and stale sitting inside all day, and even walking up to my roof for a few minutes is enough to hit the refresh button.

I am trying to not get too absorbed in the news and instead put my energy and focus into creativity: writing, drawing, painting, playing guitar and, of course, photography.
 
 

Sunset, shot while riding my bike in the empty streets of Berlin. — Julia Nimke (@julianimkephotography)
 

Sunset was all pastel that day – something beautiful in really hard times. I stay inspired by reading books and talking to dear friends.
 
 

This beach in the Lofoten islands, usually riddled with busloads of tourists and tripods, has returned to a simpler time, when locals use the current social distancing to enjoy the stunning beauty. — Eivind H. Natvig (@eivindnatvig)
 

After a decade in this place of unbelievable natural beauty, I attempt to play and see visual connections that surprise me. We are now forced to have micro adventures and appreciate our immediate surroundings; when the stars align and reality proves more spectacular than imagination; inspiration is already present.
 
 

The view from my kitchen window. — Roberto Seba (@robertoseba)
 

I’m spending most of my days between my kitchen, cooking, and my computer, studying. The glass in my kitchen windows creates this mosaic view of the world and reminds me to try to look at things differently – or at least to try to see beauty even at this scary time.
 
 

Whiteworks & Fox Tor Mire, Dartmoor National Park, England. — Nicholas White (@nicholasjrwhite)
 

I live in a small village in the very heart of Dartmoor National Park, Southwest England. It is a very remote part of the U.K., and so I’m quite familiar with social distancing and self–isolation! This area is called Whiteworks, and is only a short walk down the lane from my house. It’s an old Tin Mining settlement, and the two remaining houses are totally off–grid. In the background is the infamous swamp known as Fox Tor Mire, said to have inspired Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Hound of the Baskervilles.

It is actually a rarity for me to spend so much time at home. So I’m catching up on my reading, going for early morning runs on the moors and photographing the landscapes close to home.
 
 

Anne and Henrietta, my wife and daughter and quarantine–mates, in the evening sun on our back patio. — James Stukenberg (@james.stukenberg)
 

Usually Henrietta is cared for by a nanny during the day, but suddenly Anne and I are both full–time workers and stay–at–home parents.

I’m doing lots of reading, looking at photo books and cherishing the unexpected extra time with my family.
 
 

Self–portrait in my garden. — Chiara Zonca (@shadowontherun)
 

I had been here for a few weeks when I got stranded by the coronavirus crisis. Unable to get back home, I ultimately decided to stay put and self–isolate.

I was already fully aware of my need for nature and solitude, mainly to keep depression and anxiety at bay, but this really shone a light on the incredible role nature has in our well–being. I consider myself extremely lucky that I get to spend time in the woods, in the safety of my garden.

Something as simple as the scent of rain on the ground or the vibrant greens of pine trees and moss around me has acquired more meaning. It has become the only constant stream of joy in an otherwise bleak and hollow time of my life. Something for sure that I won’t forget once things go back to some form of normality.

I am on a solo artist residency. Each day, I need to take pictures, even if I don’t feel like it. In the morning I look for inspiration, in the afternoon I shoot. When it gets dark, I edit. And repeat. I am hoping that at the end of this period I will have a clear picture of what living in self–quarantine has been like for me as an artist and a document of my ever–evolving relationship with nature around me.
 
 

My wife, Abby Kirkbride, and our new puppy, Indy, taking a walk. — Benjamin Rasmussen (@benjaminras)
 

This is a great time to get a puppy, people said. You will be home all the time so you can train him, they said. He will bring so much joy in a time of stress. If anyone wants a puppy, not quite house broken and a big fan of chasing the resident cats, he comes free. A few ineffective training books and a bottle of pet stain remover included.

Some friends and I had decided to start reading Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time before all of this started, joking that it would be a decade–long book club because when would we ever find the time. Of course, now that we have nothing but time, the sense of beauty and memory in the book is both comforting and inspiring.
 
 

My son, confined to home but navigating in his imagination. — Fabien Ecochard (@fabien.ecochard)
 

This photo is a summary of my current concerns. Isolation, our planet, hope for better days, the new generation and the fragility of our freedom. The current situation pushes us to rethink our way of seeing things, and I take my inspiration from this change of perspective.
 
 

Croton (Gold Dust). — Farihah Shah (@rihah)
 

This week started off with snow and moved to rain by mid–week. Rather than taking a walk in my neighbourhood I focused on the health of my house plants. Their vibrant green color in contrast to the weird weather was rather uplifting.

I’m researching other photographers to stay inspired and cutting and organizing film negatives from past projects. Taking a look at my own archives and seeing if new series or ideas can emerge. I’m also putting together ’zines and a few book dummies.
 
 

Valerie playing accordion at home in Laval. — Christian Fleury (@christian_fleury_photographe)
 

I was getting ready to photograph the river at dusk when Valérie started playing her accordion. The house was instantly filled with French musette. For about 10 minutes, pandemonia, stress and anxiety ceased to exist.

These days, I look at images that I probably wouldn’t do. Then, I wonder why I wouldn’t. Sometimes, I change my mind.
 
 

Kati Zybko helping Fancy’s babies into the world. — Garrett Milanovich (@garrett_milanovich)
 

I just moved into a tiny house on a farm in Bellvue. Two of the goats on the farm were pregnant and due on the same day – six baby goats within 24 hours! Halfway through this email I was interrupted with mom number two giving birth.

I’m staying inspired through the supportive photo community here in Colorado.
 
 

Man crossing the Parc/Van Horne underpass. — Mickaël Bandassak (@mickaelbandassa)
 

In the midst of this very weird isolation period, I decided to start taking my solo walk in the evening in order to keep my sanity and to minimize the threat I might cause to others. This scene looks like any other night in Mile End, but I liked the sense of normalcy it gave me. It made me feel hopeful.

Talking to friends, connecting with fellow photographers all around the world helps me put things into perspective. I have been reading a lot and trying new things such as learning how to draw and paint.
 
 

Outside the bottle shop at Bellwoods Brewery, where one customer is allowed in at a time to buy beer to go. — Christie Vuong (@christievuong)
 

The resilience of independent businesses and the unwavering support shown by locals is truly inspiring. This craft brewery reminds us, borrowing the iconic Honest Ed’s style, that “We’re All In This Together.” Beauty is community.

Since many of my planned shoots have been cancelled, I’m staying inspired by documenting the businesses and people around me who are bravely continuing to help our community get through this.
 
 

My neighbours’ window photographed from my kitchen window in the neighbourhood of Strathcona. — Grant Harder (@grantharder)
 

Photography–wise, honestly, I don’t think I have been staying inspired during the pandemic. I need to work on that.
 
 

A Montreal street at night in my Rosemont neighbourhood. — Thomas Bouquin (@thomasbouquin)
 

Wandering in my neighbourhood streets and back alleys helps me to stay calm these days. I try to walk at least half an hour every day to exercise, take fresh air and empty my mind. At night I feel more serene and alert, looking at how the lights change the landscape around me.

I’ve been looking at the poetry all around me – spring coming out again, looking at photo books, reading novels, watching films and old Japanese anime, and spending more time with my partner and two–year–old son.
 
 

Self–portrait of me reading “The Man Next Door” by Dutch photographer Rob Hornstra. — Yuri Andries (@yuriandries)
 

Time to take some books off the shelf! The current situation creates uncertainties, but it also gives a feeling of liberation. I have more time to work on my personal work. I am extremely grateful to be surrounded by two awesome co–housing friends, my girlfriend and hard drives full of work to be done.
 
 

Homemade maple syrup in mason jars. — Alexi Hobbs (@alexihobbs)
 

There is not a lot I actually make. Maple syrup is one of the few things, and I don’t think I ever feel as accomplished as I do after I’ve made a batch for friends. I look forward to seeing them again soon and giving these jars to them. These are the ties that bond and these jars are a symbol of that.

I’ve been reading about how to prune fruit trees, taking walks in the surrounding fields and forests, and photographing and identifying every bird I see.
 
 

Dufferin–King Parkette, in Parkdale. — Lorne Bridgman (@lornebridgman)
 

March 26 was the day all public parks and play apparatus were closed until further notice. There’s a strange, unsettling beauty to these structures designed for play, now seen as potential vectors of disease.

I would like to say I am drawing on deep reserves of imagination to stay creatively engaged, but the truth is that – freed from the freelancer’s daily pressure of looking for the next assignment – I’m self–assigning projects daily: I feel as though my practice has new purpose.
 
 

A detour on the way to my studio via the Treasury Gardens. — Jana Langhorst (@jana_langhorst)
 

The light this morning was stunning and there is a sense of peace around the city that is very calming. To stay focused, I’m trying to turn feelings and emotions into work. Picking up the camera makes me forget the uncertainty and the confusion of the moment.
 

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