There is a unique stillness in old-growth forests. Here, the canopy is so thick that it filters the sunlight into a soft emerald glow, and the ground, cushioned with moss and centuries of pine needles, swallows all footsteps.
I set off into the heart of the national park early in the morning. A light mist hung between the tall trunks of spruce and beech, dampening the sounds and making the forest feel infinite. Walking here feels less like a journey through space and more like a journey through time, surrounded by trees that have witnessed generations come and go.
The Texture of the Woods
For a photographer, the forest presents a challenge of chaos. It is easy to get lost in the complexity of branches and foliage. My focus was on capturing the details—the emerald green of moss climbing a decaying stump, the dew drops clinging to ferns, and the shafts of light pierceng the canopy.