I was going to be a professor. Linguistics. Very respectable.

My soul disagreed.

Soul… Longing. Source. God.
Every word is pale in comparison to the unnamable that lives within us.
I’ve always believed that each one of us carries an entire galaxy within, worthy of exploration.

So, I followed the pull, both outwardly and inwardly.
Around the Baltic Sea. Deep into Scandinavia. To Ireland - in summer, and in winter, snow falling on secluded beaches so vast and empty you half expect to walk through the fog and into Narnia.

And then - Canada. The country where God lives, as I lovingly say.
In 2014, after a huge loss and life shift, I booked a flight on impulse. No plans. No checklist. Just me, my intuition head first, guided by the desire to spend time with myself, the wilderness, and life itself - what remains when expectations, routines and habits fall away.

And I did.
To this day, it remains one of the most impactful journeys of my life.

In 2024, I finally returned.
Four weeks turned into six months.
The car rental company in Vancouver went through all five stages of grief - from "I'm sorry, you're WHERE? The YUKON?!" to quiet resignation: "We've already extended your contract, Ms. Link. Enjoy your continued journey."
20,000 km.
British Columbia, the Yukon, parts of the Northwest Territories. Sometimes the last trace of cell service disappeared for a thousand kilometers - no messages, no internet, just wilderness, gravel roads and endless vastness.
There were moments I wasn’t entirely sure I’d make it back safely. I encountered bears, tides, the loss of my camping equipment and a tire, and survived largely on chili con carne from a can - every variety known to mankind, until the mere sight of a tin made me briefly question my faith in the goodness of life.

Don't get chilly, eat chili.
(I had a lot of time to think out there.)

I swam in lakes so clear you could count the stones and little fish on the bottom, gliding through the water with a thousand dancing suns on the surface, with the warmth of summer in my face and the coolness of the lake embracing my naked body. I washed my hair in lakes and rivers, heard the muffled sounds of thunder and rain fall from underwater, an almost mystical experience that stays with me.
I shared fires, cold beer and laughter with wonderfully strange people whose company I cherished for an evening or two; went on hikes and kayak tours with strangers who became friends - some of them to this day - hearts of gold, broken yet beautiful.

But beyond the breathtaking vastness of wild and ever-changing landscapes, there was also a certain kind of magic to rediscover:
At a frozen lake in the Rockies I sang to the birds and they landed on my hands. A moose came back when I called. I'm not saying I'm an animal whisperer. I'm just saying the wilderness and I have an understanding.

My father handed me his analogue camera when I was still a child.
Photography has been part of me ever since. No filters, no swapped backgrounds - why would I deprive myself of having truly been there?
Painting arrived in 2020 after the world went from slightly mad into full blown madness.
Poetry has always been my attempt to touch the untouchable, to try and reach beyond.

We are nature. We come from it, belong to it - and most of us have forgotten. I believe it’s time to come back to our roots. We are in a deep relationship with it - whether we love it, use it, protect it or neglect it. How we treat our surroundings mirrors how we treat each other, and ultimately ourselves.
And I hope this website, an attempt of sharing a glimpse of my own world, might be a joy to yours.

And now - be brave. Trust the wild in you - it's where the real prayers live!

With love,

Sandra

Northern Norway

Driving all the way around the Baltic Sea with a car and a tent. Here, somewhere in Sweden.

Heading towards the Northwest Territories.
The pavement ends soon, giving way to hundreds of kilometers of dust and gravel. It's almost 40°C, and you can smell the smoke from the surrounding forest fires.

In the Northern Rockies; I’d already been on the road for a couple of months.

On my way north into the Yukon; this is Northern B.C, Canada

The endless vastness of the Arctic Tundra in the Yukon.
This rough, unpaved road is the only way that leads over hundreds of kilometers all the way up to the Arctic Ocean.

From grizzlies, moose, and eagles to foxes and grouse - there’s plenty of wildlife to experience.