Life in the Taiga

Life in the Taiga

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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!

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