Letters From the Forest: The Beginning

I have gone to the forest.

Not because I am disillusioned by people or the city with its fast speed and high noise levels. It was a pure accident that brought me here, and to a life I have never allowed myself to dream of. 

I have left the world of civilized delights without realizing there was nothing to lose. Circumstances, fate, destiny, God... something brought my little family of three to a little pine forest at the shore of the North Sea, surrounded by sandy beaches of different length, color, smell and view to the sea.

You can buy this photo as a print here.

I didn't pick the forest, neither did it pick me. I didn't know about the beaches, or the birds, or the deers I would meet. I wasn't prepared for the sea in winter and the fog in spring. I simply went to the forest in October and stayed.

You must not think that nothing ever happens here. The snowflakes fall gently just like they do in the city, and the wind beats equally as mercilessly on the trees as it does on the high-rises of concrete.

I could write lyrical letters from this place. And I will. I will write them to you.

This is the beginning of a series of recollections of my life in the forest. I hope you will enjoy my stories and will accompany me in this journey back in time.

The series is inspired by Knut Hamsun's book Look Back On Happiness.