Imagine this scene: the sun, having completed its duties for the day, is already retiring behind the low grey clouds that are heavy with a soft, cold promise. Fuzzy half-light casts shadows upon and under snow-laden shapes, creating small openings to realms beyond your sight in shades of dusk-grey and mud-green. The earthy spiced scents of pine soil, wet leaves and woodsmoke tickle some slumbering place in your soul with each inhale of crisp dark air, and the delicious creak of softly breaking snow underfoo
It is actually only about 3:30pm, sometimes children are shouting from the nearby scouting hut sausage grill and you’re already thinking about dinner, wondering whether you should probably start heading back in order to curl up by the fire with a glass of red and actually do some work. But the seeming injustice at having only 6ish hours of daylight each day makes you linger longer, lapping up each little speck of fresh oxygen and natural lux units.
It is not only the thrill of catching elusive daylight, but the forest is a meditation. I always walk to my favourite spots with music in my headphones, dreaming and thinking, but once I am there and go off the beaten track I take them out – yes partly so I am not caught unawares if someone is creeping behind me – but also because away from the manicured paths, the couples and families and dog-walkers on their daily excursions, there is a wonderful peace I find in this silent Scandinavian forestscape. I usu