Life in the Taiga
Clouds of thin fog is formed as the humid, warm air from the little lake rises and hit the colder evening air. The Taiga is remarkable quiet. Only sounds that I notice are the gurgling croak of a raven and the almost silent mosquitos.
I am waiting and waiting. Searching through the trees with my binoculars but there is nothing to see. I take my binoculars down and stare into the forest without actually seeing – my thoughts are drifting.
Then a movement catches my attention and the hair on my arms are rising. This is the moment I have been hoping for and waiting for. The wolf.
Frame and passepartout are not included!