At sunset, we said goodbye to Takht Suleiman and spent the night in Zanjan. Our next destination was Gissoom Forest, a route through lush mountains and countless forests that surpasses any landscape in beauty. There is no rush to reach this journey.
Its spring is adorned with buds and blossoms, its summer is vibrant like an emerald, its autumn displays countless colors in its glory, and its winter is like a world immersed in clouds and cotton.
In the morning, we left Zanjan towards Khalkhal-Asalem road. The sky accompanied us, the sun occasionally peeked through the clouds and played hide and seek. In every breathtaking season, the road displayed its most glorious beauty, I believe, just for me.
I love Iran. It’s nature, architecture, art and history. But none of its splendor is safe from the neglect of its people. Their eyes are infected with indifference, not fascinated by looking at beauty. Nature It is full of discarded garbage and its historical walls are all ruins. I have always been disgusted and disappointed by these indifferent eyes.
I closed my eyes to the ugliness and focused my being on the greatness of all this natural beauty. Because this was my farewell to Iran. I have to remember the most beautiful parts of it.
We reached Gisum forest, passing through a dense forest with intertwined trees, we reached the seashore. The beach was strangely polluted. We pitched a tent and I preferred to listen to the sound of the waves from inside the tent.
At night it rained heavily and the wind blew. I kept thinking to myself, I wish it would rain
You wash away the pollution and the wind takes it away…
I woke up a little tired and upset. The inside of the tent was wet from last night’s rain. I sweetened my bitter feelings by listening to the sound of the waves and feeding the playful and sweet cubs.
We moved towards the city of Astara in a sky full of clouds and rain. The sights of northern Iran are full of nature. Magnificent and exemplary nature. For me, it was more shame and anger than pleasure. Seeing such pollution in such a geographical area, I could only imagine the premature destruction and what a shame.
We had lunch in Astara and headed towards Hiran road. A path that is itself a tourist destination.
I listened to my favorite music, reviewed sweet memories, drove in thick fog, and drank hot tea in the cool mountain air. It’s always the simplest things that make me feel good.
In the midst of the Temple of Anahita, dedicated to the worship of the goddess of water and fertility, there is a small pool that captures a beautiful reflection of the sky. The water, guided from a spring to the temple in several stages, becomes a mere mirror reflecting the image of the sky.
Gisoom, a mesmerizing forest region, graces the Caspian Sea’s shores, offering a picturesque landscape where lush trees create a green corridor. Located 18 kilometers from the Anzali-Talesh road, Gisoom unfolds as a piece of paradise with its dense foliage, creating an enchanting atmosphere.
Where Imagination Knows No Bounds, and Every Stroke Tells a Tale.
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