There are few old growth forests left in Europe, and not really any untouched wilderness at all. But sometimes on my wanderings through our forests I come upon an area that looks surprisingly wild and almost untouched, where a combination of rocks, mossy trees, undergrowth and fallen branches create an atmosphere that seems almost primeval. I treasure these pockets of wilderness, because they resemble an echo of times before industrial and digital progress, when nature was still lush and untamed and a climate crisis unthinkable. Perhaps they also speak to something primeval that is encoded in my genes.