High in Spain’s Sierra de Gredos, where the air is sharp and the scent of chestnut leaves fills the autumn forest, stands a tree that has witnessed five centuries of seasons. The mountains are home to many ancient chestnuts, but on a foggy evening in October 2024, one in particular caught my eye and became the subject of one of my most atmospheric photographs that year.
The image was made deep in the chestnut forest as the sun slipped behind the ridges. Mist rose from the valley, softening every contour and turning the warm colours of October into tones of silver and white. I waited in silence for the fog to settle, pressing the shutter again and again as the mood of the forest grew stronger with each passing moment. I hoped for a single frame that could capture the quiet endurance of centuries.
Estimated to be around 500 years old, the chestnut bears the marks of time — a twisted trunk, scars from storms, and the faint trace of lightning long healed. In the soft, diffused light, its bark glowed gently and its branches stretched outward like ancient arms embracing the forest. Roots spread across the ground in shapes that seemed almost otherworldly. The photograph reveals more than a tree; it reveals presence — the calm gravity of something that has stood through ages of wind, snow, and human passing.
Autumn in the Gredos is brief but spectacular. For a few weeks, the forests burn with gold and copper before winter strips them bare. On foggy days like this, colour gives way to atmosphere. The world becomes monochrome, and composition turns into a study of tone, texture, and stillness. Photographing in such light demands patience; even a single step can disturb the fragile quiet that defines the moment.
The layers of fog, the soft light on the chestnut’s bark, and the faint textures of the forest floor come together to evoke a deep sense of time and endurance. It’s an image that reminds us that landscapes are not static — they are living witnesses.
In a world that moves ever faster, this ancient chestnut stands as a quiet reminder that beauty lives in patience — in waiting for the fog to lift, for the light to shift, and for the forest to speak. For those willing to listen, it still has much to say.
