The Soothing Silence of the Woods – Forest Bathing in a Finnish Spruce Forest

Silence. It’s a concept that has become increasingly rare in our daily lives. In a noisy world, I often find myself longing for places where the clamor of human activity is blissfully absent, replaced by the tranquil soundscape of nature, sometimes even absolute silence. Fortunately, in Finland, there are still many places where you can enjoy true silence—at least if a plane isn’t flying overhead. In the countryside’s forests, even the sound of the occasional passing car rarely reaches the depths of the woods.

On a November day in a spruce forest, I found such a place and such a moment.

I step into the forest on a Saturday morning. Even on sunny days, spruce forests remain shadowy, and as midwinter approaches and the days grow shorter, dusk and darkness are the first to settle within their depths. I’ve often had to end a mushroom-picking session and leave the forest because the shadows under the dense trees have become too thick to spot mushrooms, even though the nearby forest road remains much brighter.

*Mossy, rocky spruce forests are my go-to spots when I want to find funnel chanterelles. Here I am mushroom hunting with my mom.*

Walking along a damp, moss-covered deer trail, the path softenes underfoot with its cushion of needles. The air is infused with the scent of moss and spruce—a uniquely fresh and resinous aroma—with a hint of decay, as I am on a nature reserve where fallen trees are left to decompose naturally, enriching the forest ecosystem. There is no rush, no interruptions.

A spruce forest is its own world. Compared to bushy birch groves, where dazzling white trunks rise skyward, or pine forests, where openness and light dominate, the spruce forest envelops you in a softly shadowed embrace. Here, light fades, and so does the wind, which might still be roaring above the treetops. Walking at the foot of the spruces feels like the world has paused, and the silence is almost arresting.

November forests possess a peculiar, unique tranquility, as even the last traces of summer have vanished and withered. Birds are scarce, but somewhere high among the spruce branches, a flock of crest tits chirps sharply before moving on. I know that ravens are also watching my movements, their strange calls occasionally piercing the dense silence as they fly overhead.

When I stop to listen, I realize even the silence is alive: a clear forest stream pushes through the lush moss, the wind brushes the spruce needles high above, and somewhere—not exactly near but not far—two leaning trees let out a shared creaking groan. While these sounds might technically break the silence, I feel they emphasize it instead. In my daily life, there’s plenty of quiet, but here, even the faint hums and beeps of household appliances are absent. Most importantly, it’s nature that fills my senses. I let my ears rest and absorb the energy of the forest and its calmness. The relaxation is absolute, everything feels so natural.

For me, moments like this in the forest are like meditation without any elaborate rituals. There’s nothing to fear, nothing to worry about, nothing to think about. You simply exist and let the forest soothe and heal you. That’s one of the reasons I love wandering through forests alone. While it’s nice to bring a friend along sometimes and chat about life’s mysteries as we walk, solitude in the forest is incredibly important to me.

Spending time in the spruce forest reminded me how valuable—and natural—this kind of silence is. Not just for me, but for the forest itself. November brings its own starkness, but at the same time, the spruce forest is at its most peaceful and, with the dampness, its most aromatic.

If you ever find yourself longing for peace and mental space in November, I wholeheartedly recommend experiencing the silence of a spruce forest in Finland. Dress appropriately for the weather, and you can venture out on a sunny day or in mist or rain—personally, I find misty weather the most magical for exploring spruce forests. The mist brings out the true enchantment of the place.

Bring a thermos of something warm to drink, good shoes, and maybe a small blanket for sitting. Sit down and listen—not just to the forest, but to yourself.