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. 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. Trollsjön is a small lake not far from Särna; its name means "Magic Lake", and I don't know the origin. Maybe some local legend, some encounter with animals in a distant past which has been confused with a display of arcane powers, or who knows what else (well, now I'm curious: I'll ask in the village). Actually, there is nothing different from the average of the Swedish forest lakes: surrounded by the saw-toothed silhouette of the taiga which reflects in it, patiently passes its six months of frost (like all of us, however), to offer itself as a cradle of life for birds and insects which thrive in its waters during the short summer . I get there by chance, a few nights ago, while a cloudy day is leaving room for a few minutes to the low sun, just when I arrive; the perfect mirror surface is swept by a sudden bright light, despite the late hour. While I am taking pictures, immersed in a total silence, the piercing whine of a Black-throated Diver explodes from the center of the lake, leaving an echo pushing toward the walls of trees as ripples of a stone thrown into water, and then vanish. A magical moment: the lake kept the promise hidden in its name. |
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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