The Call of the Wild – Walking Through Alpine Forests

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I've just finished re-reading this wonderful book by Jack London, "The Call of the Wild", and I find myself falling more and more in love with Buck and his story. A book deliberately written in an ancient style, rich with moral meaning. Freedom and survival, governed by the law of the strongest.

But above all, it captures between its pages that sensation of the call of the wild, towards something seemingly unknown, yet when listening to your soul, it reminds you of something already experienced. An ancient feeling, pure and powerful. A connection with the forest and nature itself.

The call of the wild is a call towards the wilderness, towards something seemingly unknown. I pause deep within the forest and a soft, soothing silence takes hold of me.

During my long days of trekking, I often pause within a forest to fully grasp its essence and spirit. So, out of nowhere and without warning, I slow my pace and in silence admire what surrounds me. At first, I'm struck by the silence concealed among the trees. My mind clears of the thoughts that usually flood my consciousness as a walker.

A soft and soothing silence takes hold of me. A pleasant sensation relaxes the muscles of my body, usually tense and tight from the long kilometres covered under the weight of my backpack.

At first glance, it seems the trees are only around me, a small green circle, but as the minutes pass, it expands and the forest becomes deeper and larger. The soft silence transforms into a dark, mysterious silence, a silence that holds secrets.

The silence transforms into a multitude of sounds and the forest fills with thousands of colours. An ancient place, lived in.

Gradually, I realize what it is; a multitude of sounds hidden within it. I can now perceive the voice of the trees, the rustling created by the wind through their leaves. The subtle movements of the forest's inhabitants. Birds, squirrels, predators, caterpillars and butterflies. These sounds are softened by a veil of green moss that covers almost the entirety of the forest, creating a sense of time, of years passed.

I realize I'm in an ancient place, a place that has lived far longer than my mind can imagine, a place that has endured cold winters and loved sunny days. Thousands of different colours reveal themselves to my eyes, one after another, intense yet velvety, muted yet warm in equal measure.

Why must I follow the trail? I venture deeper into the forest and discover new trees and new creatures that I would never have found by staying on the path. Exploring something unknown can help us understand who we truly are.

I lower my gaze to the worn path winding between the trees. Part of me is ready to follow it, but something holds me back. I look around for answers and try to let go, to follow my instinct.

There is something, beyond the trail, calling to me. The call of the wild, the call of what it conceals. Why must I follow the path? I unbuckle my backpack straps, slip it off and set it on the ground, taking my first steps between the trees, leaving the trail behind me.

I venture into the forest, driven by curiosity. Without realizing it, I move slowly, careful not to make a sound, as if I don't want to disturb the silence surrounding me. I now glimpse new figures, new trees and new creatures that I would never have discovered by staying on the paths.

Unconsciously, I move forward, driven by that feeling of curiosity and discovery of the unknown that pervades my soul. Ancient memories of distant times resurface in my thoughts, times when the world was almost entirely covered by forests and mankind was one with them.

I wonder if in remote times another human being, armed with a spear or arrows, stood here motionless, listening to the forest's silence, leaning against this very tree that now stands before me.

I'm convinced that it's good to occasionally leave the "path"; who says this is the safest way forward? Exploring something unknown and perhaps already waiting for us can help us understand who we truly are.

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