In my mind, the Norwegian Wood is a magical place, where there are trees that surround you from all directions, asleep as the days of winter pass. Where it is quiet. Where one's footsteps digging deep into the layers of uncompacted snow is the loudest sound that can be heard.Where a fox's trails can be found, but not followed. Where the remnants of a woodpecker's breakfast lay on the ground. Where the snow wafts softly and quietly, caught in one's eyelashes from time to time. Where the breath becomes visible for a fleeting moment. Where the trees are scarred by water that freezes inside them, releasing a loud cracking sound, if you are lucky enough to catch it. Where the wind is still and the branches are unmoving. Where one can make her first snow angel. Where the trunk of a fallen tree becomes something you can lean on to rest. Where taking a single step can send one's leg falling deep into the snow.Where the cry of an unknown bird can be heard from afar.Where the temperature in the atmosphere is -15°Celsius or lower. Where perfect snowflakes fall gently onto one's wool gloves. Where the tip of one's nose becomes red and numb. Where one can have a cup of warm coffee, no matter how bland or bitter. Where one could read a book.Where one could stay for hours, deep in thought in the Norwegian Wood.
These pictures were taken during my trip to Japan, in Hokkaido, but this is how I would imagine Norwegian Wood to be.
