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It almost makes me think it’s a habit, but what are the chances? They are rare in this region, so much so that it is forbidden to hunt them. Most of the inhabitants have never seen them, even after decades of hiking in these mountains. It is the largest of our land mammals and the
“Identification is only the front door to naturalism and I have the feeling of having remained at the doorstep. All my life, I’ve made lists. I identified, bird after bird, by the hundreds, by the thousands, learning along the way some facts about their biology. But what do I really know about the life of
To all appearances, these are just a few messy, abstract lines. The pencil rushed across the paper, scratching at the speed of the eye, leaving the conscience lagging behind. The image passed from the eye to the hand. The brain was short-circuited. I think we can talk about mindfulness and present moment when thoughts disappear
Earlier this year, I took a daytrip along some coastal lakes known for their avifauna. The sea on one side, and intensive agriculture on the other. The weather was only adding to this austerity, with a low cloud ceiling and a powerful freezing and unceasing south wind. Few things to observe on this lake turned
Time has this strange habit of passing as it pleases, varying according to circumstances. It’s 9:00 pm. In this small village lying at the end of a fjord, I shut the car door and start the climb. It’s already late. I hope to get there before the clouds… Midnight: I’m in my sleeping bag, lying
For a moment, my zodiac’s passengers no longer exist. I’m immediately cutting off the boat engine, I don’t want to hear a single noise. Before me, my colleagues continue their slalom in this maze of islands and icebergs in this far corner of the East coast of Greenland. Eyes fixed on this inlet opening up
Sometimes the familiar is exceptional and we contemplate, fascinated, what we thought we knew. We then stop seeing and start looking, imagining, understanding. Everything in this morning of April 6th is outstanding. I stand on the doorstep, drunk by the tiredness of a storm that didn’t let me sleep, hustled by the wind, blinded by
There is a part of instinct in some observation. I have spent the all day searching. With my naked eyes or my binocluars, going through every angles of these stony peatlands. No animal seems to be living here and yet, they are here. A few prints, a few droppings. And, it is so vast and
© Adrien Brun
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