“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity” 
― John Muir

I have found myself looking back through the photos I made along a trail leading to Sandfell, a moderately high coastal mountain, on the Fáskrúðsfjörður fjord in Eastern Iceland. I shared a bit about this in yesterday’s post.

This place summed up a lot of what I experienced in Iceland. Here, I’m standing on the shores of a small glacial stream and looking up the slopes of Sandfell itself. It’s like the innumerable mountain streams that seem present everywhere in Iceland. The creek, one of many flowing down from the mountain, follows a stone filled gully, bounded with long grass and mosses. The mountain itself is not very high, at just over 700 meters and would not normally be snow-covered. The snow is the result of a series of late October snowfalls. It has remained frozen above 600 meters and the creek, where I am standing is a transition zone between freezing and melting.

The scene is also representative of the many colours and textures of Iceland; the endless moss and grasses and the stark black stone of ancient volcanoes, covered in light snow at this time of year. Its rugged yet peaceful, a natural and untamed beauty so rare in the world these days. I completely understand why  thousands upon thousands of visitors come here every year. My hope is that, despite all the tourists, it can remain unspoiled.

iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/1150sec; f/1.8; ISO 20

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