A few days ago, I visited a forest that helped me decide to leave the city a few years ago. It's hidden, unknown, located on a mountain ridge. The path there takes about an hour through a narrow valley, up a mountain, past views of the high mountains and to a 12th-century castle ruin. It's actually not far from the main traffic, but it still feels very far away.
Over the years, I've observed chamois there, ravens have watched me, and a good number of roe deer and wild boar call this forest home. Old trees overgrown with mushrooms, a mixture of coniferous and deciduous forest, vast expanses of moss, and absolute silence.
I've been there only rarely in the last 24 months. A premonition had taken root in me, inspired by the conditions at the foot of the mountain and the experiences of the past few years.
A few days ago, I was there again. My feeling was right: the forest had been destroyed. Someone had driven in with heavy machinery, harvested the trees, torn up the ground with the machine's armored tracks, and left a trail of total destruction behind them. It felt strange. The forest seemed as if no one knew it, like a small, remote piece of the world that could exist undisturbed, ignored, and discovered only by me. It was quiet there.
Wandering around and exploring one's surroundings always has this tragic aftertaste. I've experienced these shocking moments many times, and it probably won't be the last time. When you move around in places that aren't yours and whose fate you can't influence, you have to learn to appreciate the current state and the now. These places are transient and can disappear on the same day.
I'll spare you and myself the pictures of that. The moment was terrible enough to be experienced only once, and so I dedicate today's entry to the memory of a forest that, in certain situations, gave me perspective and purpose, a forest I discovered by chance years ago, where I've since spent vast amounts of time and learned to be still.
The following pictures are from a hike in the summer of 2024 and, as far as I can remember, these are the last ones I took there.
