During my work experience week here at Howl, I’ve been asked to write three articles about a plant I’ve researched. Here is the first one. Darcy, 15

I journeyed to the Amazon not to tally another line upon the ledger of things accomplished, but to feel the vastness of the world pressing gently upon me, immeasurably old, incomparably deep. I went, as always, in search of fuel for the hidden fire.

Making bread is one of those homely tasks that offers a warm sense of satisfaction, especially when you’re adding some foraged ingredients to the mix. I try as often as I can to bring wild ingredients into my home life, in this way I feel a connection with nature in all aspects of my life. I don’t leave all my ‘friluftsliv’ in the wild, but hope to merge my modern lifestyle with that love of nature.

I didn’t understand the words he was saying, but I understood the assignment: split the vine in half to make a stronger lashing. As I cracked on using a technique I’d honed back home working with spruce roots, leaning the thicker side over to true up the split and keep it centred, Alberto recognised both my understanding of plant fibre and a well-used bushcraft technique. In that moment, bushcraft was our shared language.

There’s a rare privilege in seeing the same landscape through the airs of two very different seasons. Northern Sweden with its frozen winter silence and again in its sunlit summer waterways is one of the most instructive places I’ve found to teach, learn, and lead others in bushcraft. Guiding groups on both Borealis Winterland and SummerLand trips has taught me a host of of lessons, all leaning towards a quiet revelation.