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In Iceland we have no woods. We almost have no trees.

We have no experience from childhood connected to trees or woods except through fairytales and stories.

Where we live now we have a small forest just alongside our garden where we have been discovering and adding to our experience bank.

The woods are mysterious,

weird,

uncanny,

mystical

but most of all

magical. 

And now we get to know it dressed up in all the seasons.