FACETS // ICELAND: NFT COLLECTION

1/400, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

Glaciers have always fascinated me. There’s something so humbling witnessing these enormous expanses of flowing ice, that have played such a huge role in carving out so many of the landscapes we see today.

Iceland is a paradise for getting up close and personal with glaciers. After several days deep in the highlands, we found ourselves back on the ring road, and spent the final few days of our trip looking for spots along the south coast.

This shot was taken at one of the many glacial tongues that branch off from the Vatnajökull ice cap - the largest in Iceland and second largest in Europe.

The top down perspective really shows off the glacier’s brutalism: sharp fragments, carefully assembled into a multi-faceted, living mass of ancient ice.

1/100, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

This stunning red crater was actually the very first one we visited on our way into the highlands. Like many of the natural landmarks you come across in Iceland, this spot doesn’t look all that dramatic from the ground. It’s only once you take to the air, and can see the full extent and colour of this crater, that you can truly appreciate its beauty.

I love the balance of the red rocks with the lime green moss - the perfect complimentary colours which help to enhance the shape of the crater. The two cars up on the rim are the cherry on top - helping to give that final sense of scale.

1/60, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

Iceland’s braided rivers are nothing short of legendary. There’s something so unique about the way these rivers snake their way across the black volcanic soil.

We came across this spot totally by chance - in each direction the flowing water had created beautiful shapes and leading lines, and I loved the subtle pop of the vegetation at the stream’s edge.

It may not look it, but this stream would have been relatively challenging to cross with our 4 x 4s. Rather than risk our engines by pushing across, we let this be the furthest we would venture in that particular direction. In any case, it’s always worth saving some areas for the next trip!

1/800, f/5.6, ISO 100 / Sony A7III

Landmannalaugar. Arguably the spiritual heart of Iceland’s highland. A place that I had dreamed of visiting ever since I got into landscape photography and pushed Iceland to the very top of my bucket list. On my most recent adventure there in summer 2021 (and after a decidedly nerve-wracking river crossing) we finally made it happen, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.

Colourful hills dominate the horizon, gentle streams cascade through the valleys, and the flavour of weather changes on an almost constant basis.

For me, this shot is the culmination of hours of driving, a long day of hiking and years of dreaming.

1/200, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

On my first trip to Iceland in 2019 I missed out on properly shooting river patterns from the air. Fast forward to Summer 2021 and I had these shots much higher on the list of priorities. I was shooting with intent, and we actively searched out potential spots on Google maps. Of course, these glacial streams are changing constantly - both in terms of water volume and sediment load, meaning that what you find on Google Earth is highly unlikely to look the same as what you find in reality.

After plenty of trial and error, driving down random farm roads in the Icelandic countryside, and plenty of drained drone batteries - we lucked out at this spot.

To me, this shot is a close as you can come to a natural painting - with flowing water acting as the paint on a living, evolving canvas.

1/320, f/5.6, ISO 320 / Sony A7III

Every once in a while in landscape photography you stumble upon that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - those moments where every little detail lines up just right. They’re the unicorns of our craft: extremely rare, but simply magical when they finally appear.

This shot was my unicorn from the recent trip. I decided to hike up solo, in the dark, to the highest point of Landmannalaugar. As I made my way to the top I could see that a rainbow was forming ahead of me but couldn’t quite see the full extent of it. The golden morning light was streaming through a flurry of rainstorms blowing across the landscape, and as I reached the peak I realised that the rainbow dominated the whole panorama.

Enjoying this moment - alone, at the top of one of the most impressive viewpoints in Iceland, was an experience I’ll never forget.

1/160, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

I’m always on the look out for patterns in nature: interactions between colour, form and texture, creating visually compelling and eye-catching scenes.

It had been quite stormy in the days prior to this shot and the rivers were full of water and loaded with sediment. When rivers collide with the oceans you get these great mixing events, and when viewed from the air this clashing of liquids can be quite breathtaking.

I love the simplicity of this image. Dynamic, yet somehow calm. Minimal, yet chaotic. The juxtaposition of complimentary colours and textures combine to create what could easily be interpreted as a piece of modern art.

1/6400, f/5.6, ISO 640 / Sony A7III

Generally when I return to a country I’ve been to before I try not to revisit too many spots. There’s only so much you can manage to see on each given trip and it always pays to tread new paths rather than re-tracing your own footsteps.

This spot was an exception to that rule. Oli hadn’t been before and I was more than happy to go back. The view from Dyrhólaey is nothing short of iconic: black sand stretching off into the distance as far as the visibility allows you to see. There’s something so calming about just watching the waves move to-and-fro. Seagulls circle overhead, you can taste the salt in the air and hear the crashing waves below you.

This piece is another example of “less is more”. I love how the various shades of grey compliment each other. A timeless visual of rough waters in motion.

1/250, f/5.6, ISO 100 / Sony A7III

Scale plays a huge part in my photography. It’s all well and good snapping pure landscape photos, but without any point of reference, the brain has no way of relating how huge the elements in your photos really are.

I wanted to shoot this with a telephoto lens but unfortunately for me, we’d decided to leave that lens in the car. As the others carried on hiking down to the base of the fall, I decided that I wanted the shot badly enough to run all the way back up to the car to get the lens.

Luckily for me, Chris also volunteered to stick around and be my scale model in this shot of the mighty Haifoss. As he took his position on the mound, I hiked backwards with the 100-400mm lens to find a vantage point where I could get him where I wanted, and the waterfall at the right size in the frame.

1/1000, f/5.6, ISO 100 / Sony A7III

It was very hard to choose my favourite photos from our short time in Lanmannalaugar. Over a two day period, I captured more than 1200 images - there really is that much to see and discover in the area!

For some reason though, this one hits the spot for me - the interaction between light and shadow, the sense of scale you get from the tight crop, the subtle tones in the rock. I could almost imagine this scene being from Kyrgyzstan or Mongolia - all that’s missing is a wild stallion galloping through the river plain at the bottom of the image.

For me, this shot captures the essence of the highlands: beautifully sculpted hills, unique textures, and a real sense of adventure and wilderness.

1/40, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

I wonder what made this river decide to split into two so last minute to create two epic waterfalls for the price of one?

Haifoss is considered by many to be a gateway of sorts to the highlands - it’s one of the last major landmarks you come across before leaving the tarmac behind and embracing the wilderness.

It’s definitely a personal favourite of mine: there’s something special about arriving at the top of a waterfall and having the first glimpse of it be from the edge of a 122m high rock ledge. I’ve been there twice now and both times I had butterflies in my stomach as I approached the edge.

Raw power, unparalleled natural beauty and without question a very special place for me.

1/50, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

I still feel incredibly privileged to have been able to witness the creation of new earth in front of my eyes. There’s something just so mind-bending about having the chance to witness an erupting volcano live, watching it spew molten rock and flow across the landscape like hot treacle. The deep roar of the lava, the heat that you can feel literally hundreds of metres away and the pure excitement of everyone around you is quite overwhelming.

On more than one occasion I risked my beloved Mavic 2 Pro for these aerial shots, and I actually melted the sensor on the bottom of the drone trying to shoot a top-down over the main crater, but it was 100% worth it.

Watching the Fagradalsfjall volcano erupt for the first time in over 6000 years was one of my pinnacle experiences as a landscape photographer, and one that I will definitely be telling my future kids about with the same excitement.

1/2000, f/5.6, ISO 1600 / Sony A7III

One of my photographic goals on my latest trip to Iceland was really to focus on the little things. It’s all too easy to be swept away by the grand vistas and wide-open landscapes but the reality is that there’s just so much going on around you when you’re out there.

I’m certainly no wildlife photographer, but that’s not to say that I’m not fascinated by animals. In fact, I even have a degree in biology, and took the most joy from my animal behaviour lectures.

Armed with a 100-400mm lens, we returned to Iceland’s most iconic waterfall to capture these majestic fulmars in flight. As they darted across the face of the waterfall at lightening speed, soaring up and down through the spray, I had to burst fire to maximise my chances of capturing a decent frame.

It’s quite challenging to focus and track birds moving at such speeds but these shots turned out to be some of my favourites from our time on the south coast.

1/640, f/3.2, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

There’s such a delicate interaction that goes on between water and ice at the foot of glaciers. As the ice melts, large chunks break away to form icebergs and a glacial lagoon, before being eventually washed out to sea.

The thing I love most about this image is the fact that there’s a tiny glacial lagoon inside the iceberg, with its very own set of mini icebergs floating away into the wider lagoon.

Iceberg inception if you will!

Impressive as it is, we must remember that glaciers melting at the current rate is a rather sad state of affairs, and we must do everything in our power to ensure that they are preserved for future generations and to maintain the delicate ecosystems that they support.

1/800, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

On this particular day we spent most of the day driving through the highlands with very little visibility. We had just left Landmannalaugar and were venturing even deeper off the grid in the direction of an incredible series of crater lakes.

On the way, we were constantly on the look out for photo opportunities. At one point, one of the guys decided that they wanted to get some drone shots of our white cars isolated against the black soil. Turns out that once one drone was in the air and we realised how incredible the braided streams around us looked, we were all flying our drones in no time!

The low clouds really bring the atmosphere to this shot and although we were happy for it at the time, these turned out to be some of the last drone shots we would get in the highlands before the weather really took a turn for the worse.

1/160, f/3.2, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

The unpredictability of volcanoes is all part of their charm.

As we touched down in Reykjavík we got in contact with our friends Jonas and Mark who had already been on the island a week before us. They were rushing back to the area after seeing that the Fagradalsfjall had been quite active again on the webcams.

Our agenda was so full that we all really hoped we could catch some activity, before setting off together on the other parts of our trip. Volcanic activity is cyclic and it’s a lottery if you’ll happen to be in the area when the activity is peaking. As we set up camp on the first night on Iceland, we were constantly refreshing our phones on the webcam pages to look for something - anything, that would indicate that the volcano was about to pop.

The next morning things were looking quite promising on the webcam. There was a large plume of smoke coming from the crater, and eventually we thought we could see little spurts of lava above the rim. We headed there almost immediately and ended up witnessing one of the most incredible sights I will ever get to experience.

1/3200, f/3.2, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

It’s easy to see why the first viking settlers on Iceland thought that the barren lands were the home of the gods. There is a magic there that I have never really experienced anywhere else. It’s incredibly wild and hostile, yet inviting at the same time. Everywhere you look there are beautiful natural features, whether they be low clouds hugging to a distant peak, or a waterfall high up on a towering rock face.

This shot is actually another from Landmannalugar, but it reminded me of images I’ve seen of Thórsmörk - the so-called “valley of Thor (god of thunder)”. That’s a place that will definitely be part of my inevitable next trip to Iceland, whenever that may be.

1/160, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

The eastern corner of Iceland is one of the most impressive on the whole island. Jagged peaks rise up from the black sand as if to abrade the dark clouds above, and with every headland passed, signs of human settlement become increasingly scarce.

My experience of this part of Iceland is one of great unpredictability. The black sand beach of Stokksnes, the location of this shot, seems to be continually battered by the elements, with strong winds and inclement weather being commonplace. On my most recent trip the weather got the best of us, concealing the peaks with a low, impenetrable layer of cloud.

This shot was taken back in 2019, when we were more fortunate. After arriving in the dark, we waited for the sun to rise, unsure if any rays of warmth would break through the heavy cloud cover. In the end, our patience was rewarded, and for a fleeting 10 minutes, the light was quite simply magical.

1/80, f/3.5, ISO 100, DJI Mavic 2 Pro

Some of my favourite images that I’ve taken in my photographic career are the “simplest” ones. Patterns in nature, detail shots of tiny plants or isolated subjects against minimal backgrounds are all subjects that lend themselves well to minimalism and examples where composition, lines and colour play a huge part in defining the image.

Icelandic river patterns are so fun to shoot in the sense that you have no idea what you are getting until you’re in the air above them. On top of this lottery of conditions, is the fact that no shot will ever be quite the same and you could probably return to the same spot several times in one month and experience completely different conditions. In this particular shot I loved how the golden sediment was fanning out, creating a wonderfully textured and striking image.

1/1000, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

As cliche as it may sound, the journey really is the destination. It’s incredible how on a trip like this, so much of what you experience and remember happens while you are on the move.

Whether it be a particularly memorable conversation in the car, a spontaneous stop you made at the side of the road to take a pic of some Icelandic ponies galloping in the distance, or a random campsite you found, these are the moments that frame, and ultimately define, your experience.

This image aims to symbolises that feeling: the road to new adventures, the time spent wondering what is around the next curve, the journey itself.

1/240, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

What is there to say about Skógafoss that hasn’t already been said? The raw power, the iconic shape, the sound of thousands of litres of water crashing to the ground every second - it’s easy to see how this is one of the most visited falls in all of Iceland.

I love to imagine the journey that the water has been on before reaching this point - perhaps as a raindrop or meltwater from the Vatnajökull icecap, gathering momentum and swelling in the Skógá river before plummeting 60m on its way to the ocean.

It’s hard not to stop at this place when driving around Iceland’s ring road - it has a kind of magic that seems to always draw you closer. On a busy day, you’ll witness many visitors enjoying a refreshing wake up shower, as the spray from the falls soaks them head to toe.

It’s hands down my favourite waterfall in Iceland and is fully deserving of a spot in this collection.

1/120, f/4, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

What was the first photo you saw that really made you question if a landscape was actually real? For me, it was a photo of this place.

I had just bought my first drone and was getting started with sharing my photos on Instagram. I came across a picture of a series of three craters, shot from a top-down perspective. I instantly questioned whether there was some CGI involved because the ground was pitch black, except for some patches of red, which made it look as if the rock was glowing from the inside. When I later discovered that this surreal image was an actual place, I became determined to find out where it was and dreamed of maybe seeing someday it with my own eyes.

Fast-forward 5 years and I was stood alongside those very craters, capturing my very own images with my jaw on the floor.

1/640, f/5.6, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

I think we’ve all been to those places that truly take your breath away. The ones where you simply stand in awe and wonder if what you’re seeing in front of you is real or some kind of fantasy world that you’re imagining.

This canyon is that place for me. I first witnessed it on my first visit to Iceland in 2019 and returned again in 2021. Photos don’t really do justice to how breathtakingly beautiful it is.

From the waterfall in the background (there is actually another to the right of this shot), to the fulmars (or are they pterodactyl?) circling non-stop below you - it really does feel like a scene straight out of a Jurassic Park movie.

1/2000, f/4.0, ISO 100 / Sony A7III

We didn’t get much sunshine on our recent Iceland trip. Of course, the weather in Iceland is always unpredictable and I love it for that very reason. Nevertheless, you still keep your fingers crossed for a few golden sunsets on every trip you embark on.

We’d just returned from the highlands after the bitter disappoint of seeing very little for two days straight due to low, stubborn cloud. We were driving east and very sure that it would be our third day in a row without seeing the sun.

But as we approached Jökulsárlón we could see that the there was a window in the clouds. It was as if the icecap had its own microclimate, whisking away the seemingly impenetrable clouds. As the sun sank lower in the sky the light got better and better, eventually basking us and the countless icebergs chilling in the lagoon in a warm golden haze.

It turned out to be one of the only golden hours of the whole trip, and an evening we savoured to the fullest.

1/500, f/5.6, ISO 100 / Sony A7III

For me, this shot epitomises the idea of making the best with what you’re given. We’d spent almost a full day driving deep into the highlands to a spot that was at the top of all of our ‘must-see’ lists. We’d done the research, crossed countless rivers on the way, and put in the time and effort to get there. Yet the weather simply refused to co-operate.

We wouldn’t see the views we had hoped for after two days of patience.

But being able to adapt is a requirement of a landscape photographer. We’d spotted this rocky outcrop in the car on the way through, and simultaneously wondered how it would look with a scale model at the top. Oli thought it looked do-able and scrambled up with the dexterity of a mountain goat.

It turned out to be one of my favourite shots from the entire trip - a real silver lining.

1/160, f/4.0, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

What are the characteristics of good composition for you? Rule of thirds? Strong leading lines? Subject depth? It’s definitely a very subjective aspect of the visual arts, and varies greatly from person to person.

I’ve always been drawn to strong compositions that often feature a single subject or obvious compositional element. Whether it be a river winding through an image, or a distinctive silhouette that draws attention and anchors the shot.

In this image, I love the way that the three main colours define the composition, splitting it into abstract blocks of colour that on first glance, make you wonder what you’re looking at. The white waves, cutting through the colour blocks add an additional layer of depth.

1/160, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

We all have that one location that we’re desperate to shoot. Those spots that almost single-handedly, fuel your planning and stoke your fire to visit a place. For me, Stokksnes was that place.

I’d seen countless images from there prior to my trip, and each and every one made me more determined to witness a sunrise or sunset there one day.

On the 11th October 2019 it all came together. We arrived in darkness and bitter cold and waited for the sunrise. It was very overcast and I had my doubts whether the single morning we’d allowed ourselves would be sufficient.

As the sun slowly rose it somehow managed to find a break in the clouds, and for a 10-15 minute period, I sprinted around the beach with my camera like the happiest crazy person in the world. Ignoring my frozen fingers I enjoyed the moment, wondering how on earth I had managed to get so lucky on my first attempt.

1/200, f/5.6, ISO 2500 / Sony A7III

Iceland has so many grand views, yet some of the most fascinating are on the very smallest scale. It’s crazy to think just how old some of the ice that make up the world’s glaciers are. Compacted over thousands and thousands of years, and creeping slowly downhill as if still in their liquid state.

We were lucky enough to be invited by Local Guide for a glacier cave tour, and I was fascinated by the microscopic world that presented itself to me in the form of textures in the crystal clear ice. Frozen air bubbles, immortalised in the ice in all manner of weird and wonderful forms.

This particular one reminded me of a biological cell, nourished and protected by a viscous tissue fluid, working hard to fulfil some kind of minuscule but crucial biological purpose.

1/240, f/3.5, ISO 100 / DJI Mavic 2 Pro

All good things must come to an end. All things living must eventually return to the Earth, and all energy once spent is returned to the Earth in one way or another.

This image captures the final moments of a a river’s passing - when it shares the stories it has encountered over its calm meandering life with a much more encompassing body of water. As it passes into the ocean, it is no longer recognisable in its previous form, but continues to live on with what it contributes to the greater good - valuable minerals, organic matter and the unique memories of its origins.

Nature continues to operate in these macro and micro cycles, and it brings me great joy to witness and document these processes in all of their intricate beauty.

1/160, f/5.6, ISO 250 / Sony A7III

I conclude this collection with one of the first images I took in Iceland. Finishing where it all started, so to speak. Taken on the famous Snaefellsnes peninsula, we headed here immediately after grabbing our rental car on our first trip.

Those first few days on the island were memorable due to the intense storms that were battering the whole south coast of Iceland. I tried several times to get the drone in the air, but my feeble attempts were laughed at by the gale force winds.

For me, this image captures the essence of those blustery conditions that defined my introduction to this incredible place. The grasses visibly sway as the dark storm clouds continue to loom overhead.

While taking these shots I remember feeling like the wind was whispering to us, ushering us towards the undiscovered treasures that lay ahead.