woods

rambling in the woods, stumbling upon a brooke, playing in the icy water. like it. surrounded by natural beauty, small sounds conflict with me.




details are noticed. ants on my legs. the sticks broken under my feet ... an occasional adder or three. black. setting traps for dinner. hopefull we are eating. liam an aussie catches a fish in an impossible poool of reeds. we share the fish. white meat has never tested so fresh and satifying. tea is great. it makes you warm what ever. or even just warm water. when there is purple mist on the lake. and the small flies on the surface of the water are communicating with each other. all the large fish staying firmly away from my lure. ive lost about six. i dont want anyone to be angry with me but im starting to think its an enivitability. ive caught nothing. ive been loud and over encouraging. spent far too much time trying to seek out where rabbits run in the forest from watching you tube videos of bear grylls and ray mears. and i catch nothing and liam catches a fish. we devour the rest of the sausages we have wrapped in norwegian flat bread. its not about the taste its about the feeling you get when food hits your stoamch. but a feeling i have is that the food wont be sufficient for the rest of the trip. im thinking about who i would kill in a crisis situation. or if they would kill me. apparantly there is a half baked swede also attending this gathering. but 3 hours walk north from the outskirts of oslo into the forest in no particular direction sounds incredible to me. at night. high. fuck that. everyman for himself. eventually after i had given up all responsibility of this human beings where abouts he finally immerges from the thicket. impossibly walking in unnapproprite swedish fashion clothes. carrying the dimmest torch. high. it took him twice as long as it should have. anyway he comes and

turns out probably saved my life as he was the one after i fell asleep to contiue putting wood on the weak fire. frost on the sleeping bag has never looked so dangerous.

still alive the next day i walk back through the sickeningly beautiful norwegian nature to find out that we were not alone. the lake was populated. but in our own minds for one night. we were far in the depths of insanity. survival. surival of the fittest. using our hands again to carve wood for satisfaction of creating.

appreciating the sun when it rose and warmed our foolish bodies. eating what we forraged. very humbling indeed

all photos copyright

Timmy Bürgler!