Svartifoss, the Black Falls of Skaftafell National Park. Such a lovely rhyme scheme of basalt crystals.
Even sneakier when the water first shows itself, the tease.
One of the sacred spaces of the world, for sure. It doesn’t reveal itself all at once.
What do volcanoes dream of? (Let’s face it, they sure do dream.)
Why, heading a football for the national team, of course.
Sometimes you have to wait for the team to come, though. Sidelined on a bench. That’s the danger of being an ogre. Well, you take it in stride, right?
It’s hard for a land to evolve into human society, but it’s inspiring that it’s giving it a good Icelandic try!
At first, dawn is pure light.
Then it reveals another world.
Then it turns blue. The other world is still there, but white now.
Then there are colours, and mountains, as the two worlds join.
When you count the houses built at þingvellir each time Iceland enacts a new constitution, that’s three worlds. Well, four if you count the ice.
Anyone can see that.
But they’re also very friendly beasts. You just have to wait for them to come to you.
A kind of troll, really. Or, a whole family of them.
Big and sneaky.
Like the troll’s hair it nests upon, the white fleck of the gull hides in plain sight.
Islands, like Iceland, do the same in the middle of the sea.
This photographer on Dyrhólaey is out of bounds. She crossed a barrier to get here. Thousands do.
Some die. Is this view not good enough?
Is this one not good enough?
What about this? So bad you need to die to get a different one?
We’d rather you were alive, really. Really. Besides, if you just turn around, you can see almost forever.
Then we could all go back and grill a lamb or something, drink some lava beer and have a great good time.
Well, ok, maybe not that.