Iceland One-Off - Katla Geopark
Traveling and photography are an interesting combination. At least is is for Ann and me. That’s so because, as our Iceland trip has reminded us, we tend to get better photographs from the places that are not “iconic” locations. Places where there are few, if any, other people. Locations where nobody has said, “For GREAT photographs, you must visit HERE!” Even when we’re at an iconic location, our best photographs are often found at some little-visited meadow, or side trail that leads to . . . nothing much for the average person. Great viewpoints do not necessarily make for interesting photographs. (Side Note: Yesterday I read an email post by Mike Chudley quoting Jeffrey Ladd, “A photograph should be more interesting than the subject and transcend its obviousness.” Mike’s version is “The photograph should be more interesting than the thing being photographed. A great image elevates and transforms its subject - it should reveal something new, insightful, or beautiful that you didn’t see at first glance.” I think both are relevant to what I’m talking about.). The problem is, how do you find these places? All you can do is start with what you have information access to - iconic places - and look at the images to see if you think you’ll find special places at, or near, these iconic locations. That means you really have to be alert all the time (well, at least as much as possible) and respond to the, “Hey, maybe we should head over there!” comments, or your gut reaction to seeing a pull-out on the side of the road/trail.
That happened a couple of times on our journey to Þakgil with Judy and John. As one might suspect going from the coast at Vik into a destination in a mountain canyon (not to mention Iceland in general), we passed through an ever-changing landscape. At one point we stopped and photographed around some ancient lava formations in the Katla Geopark shaped by the interaction of water and lava, that had been lifted from roughly sea level to a thousand or more feet elevation.
Farther down the road we popped out on a ridgeline that opened up with views in multiple directions. Seeing a pullout I said, “We’re pulling over here to look around.” Nobody objected. That spot was rewarding in multiple ways. First, it offered distinctly different views in two directions. To the north was the massive Myrdalsjökull Glacier - it was the closest we’d come to a glacier and it was enormous to the eye. Sometimes it’s hard to get a feeling of the scale of a glacier. This one we could see and feel just how big it is (and it isn’t the biggest or thickest). To the south was the river that flows from the glacier to the sea - Myrdalshreppur - fanning out into a braided river delta. It was wide and flat, ending at the distant ocean that was visible even from our location.
That’s where today’s One-Off image comes from. After photographing more landscape views of the Myrdalshreppur, I decided to zoom in a bit to create a more abstract image. I made a variety of images playing with the different forms, and rotating the polarizer filer to get different degrees of reflection on the water surfaces below. This is the image I think I prefer the most. At least for now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the second reward from the stop. As we’d walked along the ridge for a quarter mile or so, looking at and photographing the Myrdalshreppur, Ann made a photograph of the ground vegetation and, zooming in on the image on the rear LCD of her camera, realized we were walking on and around wild Icelandic blueberries. They were hiding under the thick, low ground cover (we tended to follow established sheep trails as we walked) and were not obvious to the eye, given their dark blue color and their shade environment on the underside of the vegetation. Ann and I had seen a guide at Asbyrgi explain to her group that the wild blueberries are not as big and juicy as store-bought blueberries, and they’re a bit more tart, but you can pluck them and eat them, which she did. So Ann, Judy, John and I spent the next half hour or so bent over picking berries and putting them in a plastic bag.
That afternoon, after we’d arrived at Þakgil, set up camp and had explored a bit, it started pouring down rain. Stuck inside, Ann and John decided to cook blueberry scones. Guess what? After cooking, those berries turned mighty sweet! Man those scones were tasty!