There is something special about large format photography. It is slow, it requires patience and it rewards those who take the time. Standing in a wintry Garphyttan National Park with my Chamonix 8x10, loaded with Ilford HP5, feeling the cold bite my fingers while I adjust the camera, is an experience far removed from the speed of digital photography.

This camera is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship in itself – wood mixed with carbon fiber and a mechanical precision reminiscent of a bygone era. Working with it in a silent and frosty landscape makes every moment feel significant. I set up the composition carefully, looking at the world upside down and back and forth on the matte plate, letting the subject sink in before I take the picture.

The light is soft, the mist envelops the landscape and the snow-covered ground gives a stillness that feels almost timeless. That is exactly the feeling I want to capture – an image that not only shows a place, but also a feeling.

When I finally pull the darkslide back and hear the shutter click, I know the picture is taken. But there’s one thing about actually seeing it. That has to wait until I develop the film in the darkroom – another meditative process where the image slowly grows.

Large format is about more than just technology. It's about seeing, feeling and creating something that, in this case, feels timeless.