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Let's take a step back to the Söderåsen National Park, end of October. I am in the highest part of the beechwood when I hear a constant swish. Something quite similar to a river noise, but there are no streams here around. I approach the source of noise, which rises in intensity. All the sudden a cloud and a rumble explode, coming from the undergrowth: a huge flock of Brambling takes flight. And takes flight, and again and again... it lasts for a whole minute at least, filling the air with multiple twittering waves which land not far from me covering both ground and canopy, where they go back doing what they were doing before I disturbed them: frenetically feed on beechnuts. Bramblings use to gather for the winter, sometime building up enormous numbers: I remember well the wintering flock in Slovenia which, few years ago, made quite a sensation between bird enthusiasts, estimated in 4 million birds. Here the figures are lower, but I am looking for sure to some tens of thousands birds, hard to say exactly how many. I keep getting close, and all around me more flocks rise, deflagrating in the mist with waterfall rumble, as geysers' eruptions. I carefully approach further: on the ground the birds are so many that the leaves are no more visible. Another group takes flight, heading towards me, flies over me, it's above me and around as a whirl, a maelström made by small bodies and frenziedly flapped wings. The hands run to the camera, but the result is totally inadequate, as easily predictable. I find myself covered with droppings but rewarded by one of the most touching nature experience I've ever had. Someone doesn't make it: last pictures shows a male trapped in a dead branch, perhaps during a sudden attempt to take flight.
 It is now ten days since I've been back in Särna, and I found myself in the middle of a record breaking autumn: the Swedish Meteorological Institute stated that these are the highest average temperatures since weather statistics started to be recorded at the beginning of the last century.
No ice, in the South mushrooms are still picked, and I've seen lupins blooming while I was driving northward, coming back home. All through the country there isn't yet a single snowflake, which is weird in the middle of November. However, in the last couple of days in Särna – also called “the cold hole”, being one of the chillest place in Sweden, at least during the winter – we finally had temperatures way below zero. A new season is really starting, the one with the long shadows, the winter wonderland sceneries and the white blanket. To be honest, I hope that the last one will be delayed for some more time (shovelling is no fun, believe me). Back in Sweden from my Italian travel, I made a stop for just a single day (sadly) in Söderåsen National Park, which left me in May such a beautiful memory during my travel in Skåne. The park preserves a strip of the largest Nordic beech forest, an unusual one, at least for an Italian: while this tree is a typical mountain species in the south of the continent, it thrives in Sweden in plain's environments. And of course it unfolds itself in autumn in one of its more magical dresses. Here they are some shots taken in the short time I was there: a selection of traditional wood pictures, followed by two more dreamy visions. |
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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