When Snow Returned to Alcalá de Henares

The first time we saw snow in Alcalá de Henares was a few years ago. Before that, snow had only visited the city many years earlier, something people remembered almost like a story passed down.

That snowfall felt extraordinary. The city changed overnight, and everyone seemed to sense it at the same time. People left their houses just to see it, to walk through familiar streets made unfamiliar, to play. Snow doesn’t happen often here, so no one was prepared. There were no proper tools, just whatever people had at home. Gloves, scarves, bare hands shaping snow into something temporary. Laughter echoed through the streets. It felt communal, joyful, as if the whole city had agreed to pause together.

At the time, many of us thought that might be the last time we would ever see snow in Alcalá.

Yesterday Morning

Yesterday, snow returned, but in a very different way.

It was subtle, almost hesitant. I woke up early and stepped outside into a quiet street, before the city fully stirred. The snow was light, delicate, enough to soften the edges but not enough to stay. By noon, most areas had already melted. Roofs slowly lost their white layer, pavements darkened again, and daily life quietly resumed.

And yet, you could feel it. As if snow had only visited, not stayed. A brief presence that left behind a memory rather than a scene.

For a moment, standing there in the early quiet, I felt both deeply present and quietly nostalgic, aware of how rare it was to witness this again.

The Same City, A Different Moment

The streets were the same, the buildings unchanged, but the feeling was different. Years ago, snow brought excitement and noise. Yesterday, it brought calm. Less celebration, more observation. Less urgency, more attention.

Photographing these moments isn’t really about the snow itself. It’s about noticing how a place responds to something unexpected. How people step outside their routines, even briefly, when something rare appears.

Snow as a Visitor

Snow doesn’t belong to Alcalá. It visits occasionally, reminds us of itself, and disappears. That’s what makes these moments stay with us. Not the amount of snow, but the way it changes the city’s rhythm, even if only for a few hours.

Some of these moments are now preserved as photographs. Not as records of weather, but as quiet reminders that even familiar places can still surprise us, if we’re awake early enough to notice.

If you’d like to experience these fleeting mornings in Alcalá, feel free to message me to explore a collection of these moments.