“No tree is cut until it has told its story.”
The Selection RitualWe begin in silence. A forester—boots soft, voice softer—walks the ridge at 3 a.m. Moonlight silver-plates the bark. He touches trunks older than nations, feeling for the deep hum of resin. Only 3 in 1,000 trees are chosen. The rest remain guardians.
The Gentle FallChainsaws are forbidden. A two-man crosscut saw sings for twenty minutes. The tree sighs, not screams. It is lowered by rope, cradled like a sleeping elder. We leave the stump to rot—food for mushrooms, shelter for voles. Nothing is wasted; everything is returned.
The River CureLogs float downstream to an alpine mill powered by water wheels. For nine months they rest in cold currents, tannins leaching, color deepening. This is mizunara—the Japanese art of water-curing—adapted to Eastern Europe. The wood emerges denser, quieter, almost luminous.
The Slow KnifePlanks are cut by hand on a frame saw. Each board is numbered, its GPS coordinates etched on the end. You can stand in your living room, open our app, and see the exact slope where your floor once grew. The grain is never forced; we follow the tree’s own geometry.
The Final BlessingBefore crating, every plank spends one night under open sky. Dew baptizes it. Owls call. At dawn, it is wrapped in linen, not plastic. When it arrives at your door, it still smells of pine needles and distant thunder.
Trace your floor’s lineage. Order a provenance certificate with any purchase →
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