Koli is a ridge of white quartzite in North Karelia, eastern Finland, the highest ground in the south of the country at 347 metres, looking out over Lake Pielinen and its scatter of dark islands, and it is the view that Finland chose as its national landscape when it was deciding what a nation looked like. The rock is among the oldest exposed in Europe, sand that was crumpled into a mountain range two billion years ago and worn down since, and the bare crown of Ukko-Koli, the highest point, is where the lake opens eastward below, forest, water and islands fading into the haze; as Finland pushed toward independence from Russia around 1900, the painters and composers shaping a national identity came here, and Sibelius is said to have carried a piano up the hill. A trail follows the quartzite ridge from Ukko-Koli on to Akka-Koli and Paha-Koli, over rock polished smooth by the ice ages and past wind-gnarled pines, with the lake beside you the whole way, and a hotel stands just below the summit.
The ridge changes with the year. In late September the ruska, Finland's brief blaze of autumn colour, sets the birch and aspen on the slopes burning yellow and red above the lake; in deep winter the spruces along the ridge are loaded with tykky, the heavy crown-snow that bends them into pale, silent sculptures, the southernmost place in Finland where it forms, and the summit trail is climbed on snowshoes between them. Below the ridge the park holds old-growth forest and sloping meadows kept by slash-and-burn farming, the old Karelian way, and one of its crevice caves is called Pirunkirkko, the Devil's Church, where healers once came to bargain aloud with the devil for a cure. In summer the lake is crossed by boat and the ridge is walked in a day. Koli is a hill that helped invent a country, and the view from it is still the one on the wall.