An encounter from a couple of weeks ago. The kind of animals picture I like the most: a living being becomes an element of the composition as the others, which the photographer can manage in (relative) freedom; yet the animal retains the magnetic ability to draw our attention and stimulate an emotional response, thanks to the empathetic relationship that we inevitably establish with another being provided with eyes, mouth and ears, as we are. A subject brought back to its proportions and put in relation with the environment in which it moves, landscape and wildlife photography all in a single shot. The best of two worlds: that's what a portrait in the environment is all about. Januarys is gone, as one endless grey day, and gave us a single sunny day; during which, however, I met a large herd of reindeer just north of Särna, an area where they use to move in this season to graze in the forest, digging in the snow with their hooves to get to the vegetation on the ground. Above, an odd attitude showing a characteristic posture of this deer, whose “bell” shape ends with wide and flexible hooves, sort of snowshoes allowing an easy moving on snowy ground; one of their many amazing adaptations to the extreme climate of the North. However - like all animals, this season – they prefer to walk on a cleared road when they meet one: it is just so much more comfortable...
One to end it. The month just gone has been one of the warmest in the last 50 years, here in Dalarna. Wind, temperatures regularly above zero (even today, December the 31st, a day in which we use to struggle against -25/30°) and frequent rain. I could well have stayed in Northern Italy to get such a weather... Consequently, that has been a really poor photo month, with a bare landscape, little and dirty snow, grass emerging in the meadows, and wide sections of underwood entirely green. For this end of the month (and year), then here it is a shot from its beginning. Have a Happy 2014, everyone. Few days ago in the flooded forest of Göljån: lynx's footprints, not older than a handful of hours. This gives me the opportunity to narrate an “almost” close encounter with the big cat of the subject, few years ago, in the very same location. I was there to photograph a dipper which was hanging out along one the several creeks crossing the wood devastated by the great flooding from 1997; by the way, exactly the one, frozen, in the picture here. To get there, you have to walk on a narrow wooden boardwalk. I was a twenty meters from it, bent on the tripod and focused on the dipper coming and going on a fallen tree not so far. After just ten minutes I picked up my gear and was heading to my car: on the boardwalk, well clear and obvious on the dry wood, a very fresh track of linx's wet footprints was there, and it wasn't there before. To make it short, a lynx passed by my back, just 20 meters from me and in open sight, while I was staring exactly at the opposite direction. Ever since, inevitably, everytime I recall that moment, with a bitter smile the old commercial I embed here below comes to my mind. At the end of September two Italian photographers came here for a vacation, and stayed one week at our hostel; guests for the first time, then, in the term's classical meaning. Nature and outdoor enthusiasts as they are, they got things going in the right way, exploring the territory without sparing any energy, following the hints by yours truly. This way they have been able to enjoy most of the beauty of these latitudes' autumn, albeit a weakening one. I am glad to give visibility to their passion and niceness devoting this post to a gallery made with a selection of the pictures they made here around: thereby, they are guests a second time. At the same time it's a way to show what results the commitment and a correct approach could produce – from a wildlife standpoint – even in such a short period of time, and not in the very best season, at least for the animals.
Ladies and Gentlemen I give you, in strict alphabetical order, the dynamic duo Perlino & Pons (Luca and Massimiliano respectively), whom I thank here for the helpfulness. By the way, the Chronicles are today passing the milestone of 400 pictures, since May 2007. The forest is a green ocean. Like planks from stranded wrecks,
among backwashes of blueberries and waves of ferns, dead trees lie. The gift December brings me is the gold from the scarce water which still freely flows in the rivers, colored by the winter sun reflected by snow-covered trees; or the amber tone of tannins dissolved in it, made evident by a white, spotless ice which is forming as I see it, in the very moment a new wave touches an icy rock.
It is the silver forest encrusted with thick rime, when it’s already freezing but little snow has come. It is the red of the pines lit by the last sunset moment, standing out against the bluish shadow as corals or sea fans in an underwater picture. Entirely natural colors, migrated like you see them from the original scene to the memory card, and from there to the screen ... which makes the gifts even more precious. I went up to "Erik-Knutsåsen" observation tower nearby Gördalen, along the northern borders of the national park Fulufjället. It's a lovely viewpoint upon a wild area covered by a high ground, sparse forest with spruces and birches, wavy hills alternated with marshes and small ponds. Just got to the top, I spot on the platform some tiny masses of material, which at a closer look reveal to be droppings (or hairballs) from an owl. I raise my eyes: twenty meters away I cross the magnetic ones from a hawk-owl, which clearly chose as well to take advantage of the view from the tower. A wonderful encounter, unexpected and not so usual. You can’t be ready for anything anytime, and I had climbed the tower with a landscape, “short” photo set up: thus this picture is a generous crop, which, however, reflects the spirit of the original composition, where the animal (by choice, by need or both) is placed in the environment. The kind of wildlife image I prefer. I believe I could spend the rest of my life in Sweden (and, to be honest, I hope to do so) and yet continue to experience a special emotion at every encounter with the Nordic fauna. After all, I am and I’ll always be a foreigner, a man from South of Europe raised between broad-leaf forests and Mediterranean scrub. To whom "Capercaillie" is a name which the aftertaste of a myth, that urogallus taken as paradigm of the endangered wildlife in the Alps. A shape which still makes me jump anytime I see it, despite I meet it quite often. Moose, balck grouse, dotterel… those are now my fellow travellers, the characters that accompany the days of that journey which is my Swedish life. The Capercaillie, but not just, is also a road companion in the literal meaning: along the roads it's easier to spot it and distinguish it from the depths of the forest; and it’s along a road, from the privileged point of observation of a scarcely nature-friendly car, that it’s possible to get closer to it, being it more confident towards a car than to a human. Urogallus, then, and one from yesterday: a cold and windy morning where I met several female squatted in holes dug in the earth, warming up; then, who knows, bringing that warmth to the chicks probably waiting nearby, under the shelter of the undergrowth. |
All site contents are: © Vitantonio Dell'Orto, all rights reserved worldwide. The Chronicles of Särna, and other stories from the North.
I live in Sweden, in Särna (Dalarna). The Chronicles are a photo diary about the nature (but not just) here around and from all the Scandinavian areas where my photo job takes me.
My book: "My Sweden - Tales from an Italian photographer in the North" is available in the bookstores and by the publisher.
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