_A quartet of pictures taken yesterday in the village, for the first post of the year; nothing more than what the title says: postcards, no attempts to perform Great Photography here, just a way to gather moments, lights and glimpses, change them into memories to share with friends or accidental visitors, wishing to them all a happy 2012.
At last the snow settled on central Sweden also - and it couldn’t be otherwise - although still not in a "Scandinavian" amount. Enough to justify going out in the woods; not enough to get views of them in line with the "winter wonderland" effect of stylization and simplification that snowy landscapes usually provide (and I usually expect). With such a low level of the blanket, brush and branches of the undergrowth remain in sight to mess with the purity of the whole. Therefore I thought to go with the good old motion blur, in order to dilute the "impurities" while maintaining clearly visible the side of the trees crusted with snow (I've been waiting for it a long time), which in any case would not show any detail. Blades of sunset enriched an already fascinating scenario. When you have to do with photos so alike, it’s dificult to tell which one is better, which deserves the title of "nice picture"; here, more likely, none of the three, but that is what I could get in this December so far.
And talking about similarities, the most careful of you will find some between the second picture here and the motion blur one in this post: when the elements in a picture are few, similar and simple (the trunks, in our case), the rules of a balanced composition can lead to photographs which look actually pretty the same. The other parameters involved (light, colours) make the difference, in these cases. Photography is like music (and I’ll like to return on this topic): the involved parameters are finite in number, but their combinations are endless. By the way: Happy Holidays to everybody. Or better: God Jul och Gott Nytt År! First time I met them it was 40 years ago, in the pages of an illustrated book for kids, whose cover said "Watch and discover the animals of the Arctic." Drawings that fascinated me with stories of strange and exotic wildlife, which are still there in the man I am today, since the memory is there, fresh as the excitement and awe in all the encounters with animals which, ever since, happened in my life. The lemming, the only exclusive animal for the Scandinavian fauna, so known but for the wrong reasons, so misunderstood by the most superficial popularization... I see it for the first time three years ago, here on the slopes of Mount Fulufjället, my “backyard” national park. An individual quickly disappeared, the vision of a moment, but a moment to remember, the realization of a dream started long time ago. What I always missed, so far, was the mythical "year of the lemming", when happens one of those population explosions typical for many species of rodents; for the lemming it has become what defines the species itself in the popular knowledge. Multiplied beyond the capacity of their environment to sustain them (it can litter up to 6 times a year, with up to 13 cubs which are sexually mature after one month), the animals crowd the tundra and migrate to the valleys and forests in search of food, invading areas that aren't their, and crossing, or trying to do so, any obstacle in their path. Rivers and lakes included, if necessary (and it certainly is, in the North). From these migrations the myth was born - that's what it is, since there are no direct observations of the phenomenon reported in literature – about thousands of lemmings which knowingly and in lovely synchrony are killing themselves diving into the sea. A myth fed by an old Disney documentary, artificial and misleading as they were many in the early 60s. And we are nowadays at a point where "lemming" became synonym for conformist, individual with no personality, even a bit stupid. The lemmings, the true ones, are quite different: individualistic, hyperactive and quick (as much as a vole can be), so aggressive for self-defence to threaten men and even cars gnashing their teeth and hissing angrily. And it's true: they die in thousands, but under the tyres of those very cars.
I still have that book, now that I can just step through my door and meet in person "animals of the Arctic.", now that I finally met a lemming year. It is the only volume that I've kept for so long; I'm not particularly attached to the memories or to the past, but those pages are like a thread that connects the kid I was to my present time here in Scandinavia. The omen of a fate to come, or, more likely, a part of what helped to shape it. Where the pine's sprout acted like a shield, there the snow piled up, moved by the chilly strong wind from the last days. On the sides of what, perhaps, will one day be another drop in an ocean of forest, tiny dunes bloom, whose surface is not just snow, but rather an icy and dull crust, shaped by the wind and glazed by snow particles blown at high speed. The resulting material reflects the light in a soft and peculiar way, with an overall effect similar to a satin veil. It's been a good beginning of March. The night of the 1st the northern light has showed up in Särna, the very first one since we moved here (almost 4 years now). Nope, you won't see it in these Chronicles: sometime you have simply to "be", you have to enjoy the moment without thinking about to "get", to take a photo (you can still see it in a time lapse at this link: the display is exactly the same, just in a different location). While I was with my eyes up, a Tengmalm's owl started singing. What else ask for? In the following days the weather has been mild, even with temperatures above zero: March is mad at this latitude too, and, in spite of good weather, for a couple of days a strong wind raged, giving a taste of desert storm to the mountain.
I am quite aware that this isn't a nice picture at all. It is actually a snapshot, in the very moment in which the animal begins to run away from me, taking flight. A typical "stolen" shot, unplanned and made by chance. However, an odd chance which put me in front of a Willow Grouse so soon after the previous encounter, documented in the first picture of the year (previous post). A living one, this time. Thinking how much difficult is to see this taiga's phantom (widespread, but basically invisible), it seemed to me as the Chronicles were "claiming" a compensation to that shot through one witnessing the bird alive, and I could not help pleasing them. (cropped) A few dark strokes are what is visible of a Willow Grouse, otherwise indistinguishable from the surrounding snow. The animal died of the collision with a car along a minor road, to its eyes the obvious extension of its environment (everything here is white, now), crossed by chance in its quest for food among the low birches. Definitely not a good fate, if you think at the total lack of traffic. I picture the scene: out of the absolute silence, all the sudden the low noise of the car softed by the snow; maybe a quick swish at the impact, then quietness again, now truly absolute. Snow falls like an istant shroud to cover, remove the drama of an istant, an infinitesimal fraction in the life of Gaia. Someone might consider not a good omen opening the new year with a corpse photo, but it isn't a problem of mine: that's life. Those interested in further considerations on this subject could go to the last picture in November 2008. |
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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