Walking into The Old Forest

The Old Forest continues where Moments in the Wilderness ended…

As I prepare to begin my next long-term project — with the first trip taking place in June — I wanted to share a few thoughts about where it comes from, and what I hope it might become. This is the story behind The Old Forest.

Something happens the moment I step into an old-growth forest — a sense of belonging, a feeling of being part of something larger. It’s as if the forest invites me to slow down and pay attention. Not just to what I see, but to what I feel.

Over the past few years, the urge to portray the often overlooked landscape of the taiga has quietly grown inside me. While working on Moments in the Wilderness, some of my most memorable experiences took place in the forest. That’s how The Old Forest began — not with a plan, but with something quieter. A longing. A need to return. To go deeper. To capture not just the landscape, but the feeling of being there — the spirit of the place.

A moment of stillness above the old forest.

The Old Forest is my new long-term project: a year-long journey into the spirit of the taiga. I’ll be there to witness the seasons change: from summer to autumn, and into the cold of midwinter. I’ll be there when the sun returns — and in spring, when life begins again.

The result will be a new documentary film and a handcrafted print portfolio. It follows in the footsteps of Moments in the Wilderness, but this time the focus goes even deeper — shifting from the grandeur of the mountain to the quiet beauty and stillness of the old forest.

There’s a saying in Sweden: You can’t see the forest for all the trees. But the forest is so much more than trees. In a true old-growth forest, an entire world opens up — if you’re willing to slow down and receive it. These places are rare, as much of today’s forests are managed for timber production. But in the remnants of the old taiga, life continues in its own rhythm. Countless species depend on these ecosystems — and I believe the taiga has something to teach us about life itself. After all, these forests have been our home for thousands of years.

The Black-throated Loon — a symbol of the forest.

As I write this, I’m preparing for my first trip — packing gear, checking maps, and wondering what I will experience this time. I feel both excitement and humility, but mostly I feel grateful. Grateful to have the chance to return, to listen, and to try to translate what I find into something others can experience too. A year and a half is a long time to commit to a project — but in the lifespan of a forest, it’s short. 

New for this project is that I’ll be keeping a journal throughout the year — sharing reflections, glimpses, and moments from the old forest. The first entries will appear here on the website after I return from my first trip in June. I hope that this journal offers a window into the taiga — and into the process of creating this work. And maybe even to life itself.

The feeling of autumn in the forest.

If this journey speaks to something in you, there are a few meaningful ways you can support the project and help bring it to life:

›  Pre-order the documentary film
›  Pre-order the print portfolio
›  Get the print portfolio + grand print bundle
›  Become a monthly Supporter

Thank you for walking with me into The Old Forest. I can’t wait to share what I find.

Magnus

A misty morning over the taiga.

Support the project

Support The Old Forest by pre-ordering the work. Your support truly makes a difference — allowing me to spend more time immersed in the taiga and fully devoted to bringing this project to life.

You can also support the project by becoming a Monthly Supporter.
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