Big Trees, Little Dog, Lots of Snow

There is a sense of melancholy when you know you and your little dog are entirely on your own in a snowy forest. A magical sense of feeling that you have landed in another place and another time; a place you never visited and a time in which you haven't lived.  A pervading sense of heimwee, sehnsucht, saudade; a feeling for which there is no word in English.

I felt overwhelmed with it during the entire dog walk, when our feet and paws made the only fresh impressions in the snow that had fallen overnight. It was still soft and powdery and every little bit of wind made it come wafting from the trees like icing sugar.

We had the wood to ourselves and it almost proved too much for me. It was a walk back in time, lost in thoughts. I could have been alive in the Middle Ages or in some future ice age. It might have been the scene for a Scandinavian Noir thriller or Smilla's Sense of Snow. It was untouched and full of promise of a better and cleaner world.

It made me feel both ecstatic and very sad, full of hope and of tristesse, and I felt both enough and greatly lacking.

Both images and words can't cover my feelings and thoughts during this very special walk. I was profoundly grateful to be alive and exactly here in this forest during this moment. It was both timeless and eternal, and yes, it made me cry.

This is a for me very personal post and I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to blog it. Normally I would leave it as a draft but this time I will click that Publish button. I'm often asked where I get my inspiration from and it is from moments like these.

And here are two pictures from this afternoon’s walk that was just as magical