In the undergrowth behind my house, the world holds its breath as summer’s vibrant crescendo fades into autumn’s hushed reverence.
It is a season of transformation, not just for the trees shedding their emerald cloaks for a fiery display, but for the very soul of the landscape itself. Nowhere is this metamorphosis more profound, more palpable, than within the ancient embrace of the forest.
And when the golden sun, a celestial eye, dares to pierce the veil of morning mist, the forest ceases to be merely a collection of trees; it becomes a Myst(ic) Forest, a sanctuary where the ordinary dissolves into the extraordinary, and the spiritual whispers of nature become undeniably clear.
Imagine stepping across the threshold, a barely perceptible boundary between the known and the enchanted. The air is cool and damp, carrying the rich, earthy perfume of decaying leaves and moist soil, a scent that is both a promise of slumber and a memory of vibrant life. The silence here is not an absence of sound, but a symphony of subtle rustlings, the gentle drip of moisture from canopy to undergrowth, and perhaps the distant call of a bird preparing for winter. This is the overture to the forest’s mystical performance.
Then, as if a divine hand has drawn back a curtain, the first rays of the sun begin their descent. They are not harsh or blinding, but soft, ethereal fingers of light that cut through the lingering tendrils of mist. These are the famed “light wells”, vertical shafts of luminous dust motes dancing in the crisp air, illuminating pathways that seem to lead not just deeper into the woods, but deeper into oneself.
Autumn’s embrace: finding peace and magic in the forest
As the days shorten and the air takes on a crisp, invigorating bite, my heart begins to sing with a familiar, joyous anticipation. Autumn, for me, isn’t just a season; it’s a pilgrimage. It’s an annual return to the hushed, ancient cathedrals of the forest, a place where time seems to slow, and the very act of breathing becomes a profound meditation.
And with my faithful Fujifilm X-T5 and a single lens in hand, I embark on a quest for a deeper reconnection with nature and, ultimately, with myself.
There’s a mystical quality to the autumn forest that transcends mere aesthetics. It’s in the way the light filters through the canopy, painting the fallen leaves in a kaleidoscope of gold, russet, and fiery orange.
It’s in the damp, earthy scent that rises from the rich soil, a perfume of decomposition and rebirth. The air hums with a quiet energy, a profound peace that settles deep into your bones, washing away the anxieties of the modern world. Here, amidst the grandeur of ancient trees and the delicate dance of fading light, I find a sanctuary for my soul.
My journey into the forest is rarely about finding a specific shot. Instead, it’s about being present, open, and receptive to the magic that unfolds. I walk slowly, deliberately, my senses heightened. I listen to the gentle rustle of leaves underfoot, the distant call of a bird, the whisper of the wind through bare branches.
Under the unique and magical light of autumn, I marvel at the hidden wonders that reveal themselves to those who take the time to look. And oh, the encounters. Autumn, for the keen observer, is a season of magical meetings. Beyond the vibrant tapestry of foliage, there are the silent, unassuming magicians of the living world: mushrooms. Without them, neither the trees nor we ourselves could exist. These incredible fungi, in all their myriad forms, burst forth from the damp earth, each one a miniature masterpiece of nature’s design.
I always photograph in natural light and freehand, with the desire to share my amazement at the infinite richness and gifts of the forest. This photo series is an invitation to reconnect with yourself and nature. [Official Website]
