This part of the project took shape during a land journey from Tehran to Rasht, through the lush and misty towns of northern Iran:

From Karaj, Qazvin, Manjil, Rudbar, and Rostamabad,

we arrived in Rasht, then continued eastward into the heart of Gilan Province: Rudsar, Chaboksar, Javaher Dasht, Siahkal, and Lahijan.

Along this path, the morning fog rested gently on the shoulders of the road like a thin veil. The mountains were soft and green, and the scent of freshly-picked tea in Lahijan seemed to seep deep into each frame.

Rudbar still smelled of olives, and the women selling walnuts by the roadside felt like part of the mountains themselves. In Javaher Dasht, the light pierced through the mist like gold, resting quietly on people’s faces—as if time had briefly stopped.

We met people calm and warm, with slow, deliberate words and eyes that carried something of soil and moisture. This was a North not only green, but profound.