Walking through a small forest near my home at the end of winter and the beginning of spring, I am always struck by the way the seasons overlap, each one leaving its trace. This photograph captures that moment when winter hasn’t quite let go, yet spring is already making itself known. The air was thick with mist, softening the towering silhouettes of the trees and creating a dreamlike atmosphere, and the ground was still covered with a carpet of damp, russet leaves, reminders of autumn and winter’s long hold.
In the centre, a young beech tree still clings to its copper colored leaves, their warm tones standing out vividly against the muted greys of this misty forest. But what excites me most as a photographer is the quiet arrival of spring, announced by the delicate white blooms scattered across the forest floor. These are snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), and these are the first flowers that emerge bravely through the fallen leaves, in our climate above 1000m.
I find that the contrast between decay and rebirth, between the lingering chill and the first stirrings of warmth, is what makes this moment so beautiful to capture. Nature is in transition, and the forest tells a story of resilience and continuity, and with this, I find myself drawn to the interplay of colours and textures. Photographing this season is about honouring both the melancholy of what has passed and the promise of what is to come. Again, I shot with my tripod at a low level and used a polarising filter to saturate the colours.
