The other night I watched a program on BBC Earth. “Where The Wild Men Are”, presented by Ben Fogle. I like to watch it. I like Bens voice with which he tells a story about different people who have chosen to live in isolated places around the globe. The way he express his thoughts through his observations and by talking with the people is captivating and it draws me back to my own childhood.
I grew up in a isolated village, surrounded by mountains and thick forest. No train connection, a bus a couple times a day that took you to the nearest train station. 30 km away. Or any other stores or facilities you needed. If you wanted a decent haircut, prepare to travel 80 km. You had to plan everything you wanted in advance and you had to have a car.
But the place itself is breathtaking. The mountains, the forest and the wildlife upon your doorstep. I can still remember the smell of the spring, when the pine trees and the flowers exploded in your face.
I can still hear the birds sing loud while the pheasant slowly strutted around minding their own business. And if you were up very early you could be lucky enough to hear and see a Capercaillie. Sprouting their feathers and sing loud in search of a mate.
The moose, the fox which came to say hello and the mother deer with her 2 babies that ate all the apples from your tree. All around you were the purest of the pure; mother nature in all her glory.
Sølen mountain, Rendalen Norway
This childhood home of mine has been battling isolation and depopulation since the 1960`s. And as the icy fingers of the Corona virus slowly tightens its grip around the globe, borders and ports are being closed. Shops, restaurants and streets are dark and empty. People are advised to stay inside and in more and more places there is a complete lock down; and I can`t ignore the irony.
Isolation – now we all are seeking it.
We sit in our homes face timing with friends and family; unburden us of fears and uncertainties while we all, in our own way, explore new and at times a bit frightening terrain. And all this while we discover a forgotten sound: silence.
© Sirenia 2020