Savoring the Silence: A Family Stroll Through Finland's Spring Forests
Early spring in Finland is a season of subtle transformations. The snow may have melted from the forest floor, revealing soft moss and last autumn's leaves, but lakes still lie under a shimmering sheet of ice. On a recent family walk through one of these awakening woods, we found ourselves surrounded by stillness, broken only by the mesmerizing cracks and creaks echoing across the frozen lake. Nature, even in its quietest moments, has so much to say.
The temperature hovered just below freezing, around -2°C, a crisp yet gentle reminder that winter still lingered in the air. We wrapped ourselves in layers—merino wool, fleece, and well-worn softshell jackets—and set out along a familiar trail. The children were curious and alert, spotting woodpeckers and tiny pinecones, while our dog darted ahead with joyful purpose, nose to the ground, tail in the air.
There was something spellbinding about the lake that day. With no snow to buffer the sound, each movement of the shifting ice rang out clearly across the landscape. Deep pops, sharp cracks, and the occasional eerie groan made us pause, smile, and marvel. "The lake is talking to us," one of the kids said. And it truly felt that way. The ice wasn't just frozen water; it was a living, resonant part of the forest's spring story.
Every few hundred meters, we stopped to breathe in the air—so clean and cool it felt like medicine. We noticed tiny buds forming on birch branches, quiet signs of nature preparing for warmer days. A few birds called in the distance, their songs faint but hopeful. There were no buzzing insects yet, no heavy coats of snow, just that serene in-between state that Finland wears so beautifully.
After a slow and wonder-filled walk, we reached a nearby laavu, a traditional Finnish lean-to shelter often found along forest trails. It's the perfect place to rest, share stories, and enjoy some simple outdoor cooking. We lit a small fire in the designated firepit using dry birchwood, its distinct scent curling into the sky. As the flames settled into a steady crackle, we pulled out our pack of makkara (Finnish sausages).
The sizzle of sausage over open flame is a small joy that never gets old. While the kids poked sticks into the fire, toasting their makkara with wild enthusiasm, we leaned back on the wooden bench, letting the warmth of the flames reach our cheeks. There’s something grounding about this simple ritual—being together, doing nothing but soaking in the moment, surrounded by tall trees and smoky air.
We passed around mugs of warm mehu, a berry juice concentrate diluted with hot water—a Finnish outdoor classic. There were no phones, no distractions. Just conversations about ice sounds, animal tracks, and what we might cook next time.
Even with the crisp air, our hearts felt warm. Out here, there's no rush. No pressure. Just time spent together, present in the moment, surrounded by nature that gently insists on peace and presence. As the fire began to die down, we packed up, leaving the laavu exactly as we found it—a quiet shelter waiting for the next visitors.
The walk back felt even quieter. The lake still groaned behind us, whispering winter's final words. We spotted a deer trail, listened to the trees sway, and let our minds wander. These are the kinds of moments that stitch a family closer together. Not grand events, but shared silences and small wonders.
And as we drove home, cheeks red from wind and fire, the kids dozing off in the back seat, I couldn’t help but think: I’d rather be in Finland.
If this kind of peaceful, nature-filled day calls to you, take a peek at our In the Nature collection. Inspired by Finland’s serene forests, frozen lakes, and the deep calm of the outdoors, these shirts are for those who carry the forest in their heart—wherever they are.