The Old Forest Journal

Skiing across frozen marshlands and old pine forests in Muddus National Park, I travel into the stillness of midwinter.

Walking through an ancient pine forest, I come across the rare Clam Lichen, growing patiently on charred old wood. A small detail, yet it tells a story of fire, time, and the persistence of life.

A month in the taiga, moving through mist, light, and time. One special morning carries me back to when this land was born after the ice age.

After a week of struggles and self-doubt, the light returns, and the red-throuted loon's eerie call echoes through the dawn. In that moment, the forest feels alive, and so do I.

The first trip continues, and I get deeper into the spirit of the taiga. I find a giant, 500-year-old pine — its trunk weathered, initials carved into the exposed wood.

The first trip of The Old Forest brings a quiet sense of return. A moose cow and her calf pass silently through the trees. Two old friends visit my campsite. Slowly, I begin to find the rhythm of the forest.