Echoes of the Wild

Paradise Trust, nestled deep in the backcountry, is where I escape once a year for ten solid days of reconnection to the simple life. The beauty of the backcountry in winter is nothing short of breathtaking. Sacred mountains seem to call your name, whispering messages that only you can here. A language that vibrates at a level that rattles your bones and gravitates you towards your centre. The Ruru, with their ancient wisdom, call out from the beech forest as if you’re eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for you, yet deeply intended for you all the same.

This winter, I experienced a few moments that were nothing short of magical. One morning, I was greeted by a fiery sunrise, the sky painted in pink, orange and golden hues. The previous year, I had witnessed a similar sunrise but struggled with my camera settings, resulting in blurry images. I was disappointed but still revelled in the experience of being witness to such a magnificent sunrise in this valley. It's not often you get colourful mornings like this in this place. This time, when I looked out the window well before dawn and noticed hints of red in the sky I jumped straight out of bed and grabbed my gear. The jandals I slippped on may not have been the greatest choice of footwear but I made it to my lookout spot without falling head over feet. I spent time connecting with the landscape, listening to the mountains and the sound of the Dart river flowing in front of the rolling hills that stood before me. Grateful for this moment in time, I looked up at the sky and said Thank You. This time, I got it right. It felt like a second chance from the universe, a sign to keep going—reminding me that there will always be another opportunity to capture life’s beauty.

Another unforgettable moment was witnessing my first sun halo—a full circle of light around the sun. It appeared funnily enough just after I had asked the universe for a sign that I was on the right path. I had been grappling with challenges in my life—financial strains, emotional struggles, and uncertainty about my direction. I was staring into the reflective waters of one of the ponds at Paradise and noticed a shaft of colour, the makings of a rainbow. As I followed this up with my camera I realised it wrapped around the sun completely. The sun halo felt like a powerful affirmation, encouraging me to keep pursuing my passions but with greater intention, setting up systems to support my journey more effectively and sustainably.

My days were filled with wild adventures in the lakes and rivers, cold water immersions that left me feeling refreshed, revived, and so alive. Walking barefoot in the winter—a rare joy in this place—only deepened my connection to the land. I spent seven days on my own, just me and my pups, Luna and Saaschi. It was a girl’s retreat of sorts, solo adventuring into the wilderness, reflecting on life’s choices, both good and uncertain, yet holding onto a vision that I know in my heart will come to fruition.

Dolans Hut, my home during these days, is like a portal to a simpler time. With no wifi and no cell reception, the distractions of the modern world fade away, replaced by the echoes of old mining days at the nearby scheelite mine. I often wonder what life was like back then—cold winters spent in dark places, warmed by the fire and the company of those who shared the struggle. Today, the huts stand as a relics, offering a chance to strip back the layers of modern life and reconnect with the rawness of humanity intertwined with nature.

The last few days of the trip, my partner Pierre joined us and everything felt complete. Together, we ventured further into the wild, sharing the magic of this sacred place. Our days were filled with explorations—navigating the mist-covered trails, marvelling at the snow-dusted peaks, and enjoying quiet moments by the lake & streams. The bond we share always seems to become more intimate as we are surrounded by the stillness of nature. We find joy in the simple pleasures of life—cooking meals together in the outdoor kitchen, chopping wood for the fire, getting the fire bath ready, soaking in the bath as the stars dart across the sky shifting and shaping into various constellations, and laughing as Saaschi does her zoomies around Luna through the tall grass. Each moment is a reminder of the beauty of connection, not just with the land, but with each other. Our time here is always a gift, a chance to reset and reconnect, not just with ourselves, but with the love we share.

One morning the fog rolled in like a blanket across the landscape. Snowbows over the hut and in various places along our walk made me smile in wonder. As we ventured through the property, only the path ahead of us was clear for about 20 meters, illuminated by the sun breaking through the fog. Emerging on the other side to see blue skies and the layer of fog retreating to the left the polarity of life sometimes. Something to ponder, but I decided to photograph it instead.

Nature always provides endless opportunities for photography, and this trip was no different. I was captivated by the variety of mushrooms, particularly the turkey tails at different stages of their cycle—imagining their networks of mycelium pulsing beneath our footsteps on the earth. Luna and Saaschi were living their best lives, exploring the wilderness with unbridled joy. Our annual family photo, with a rainbow behind us and striking cloud formations, captured a moment of pure happiness and contentment and mild frustration trying to get the dogs looking in one place.

Something I was really looking forward to this year was connecting with Lucy, Paradise Trust's new resident pet donkey. Meeting her was a special moment, as part of my dream is to one day have a couple of donkeys on our forever property, alongside our gardens and retreat space. Lucy, an old girl in her late 30s, has a beautiful spirit. I brought some celery from my garden to share with her, and she seemed very appreciative. Simple joys that make my heart full when I think about even now. It's the little things.

This retreat nourishes my soul in ways that are hard to describe. It’s a reset button, a reminder of how little I truly need to be happy. A gentle nudge to self that I don't need to overthink, over complicate and strain the situation. Redefining what my true needs & wants are and recognising what I can and can't live without. There’s a part of me that wishes I could stay forever, wrapped in the embrace of this land, living in tune with its rhythms. But for now, ten days is our limit—a brief but meaningful sojourn into the heart of simplicity. Perhaps next time, we’ll stay a little longer.

Photography & Writing by Kassandra Lynne

Venue / Location: Paradise Trust