My first time
The very first time I saw the northern lights was at Þingvellir national park in Iceland. Since then I’ve not been able to get enough of nature’s most incredible show of power.
I’ve made it a priority of my photography to photograph (and experience) the Aurora at every opportunity, and my passion is demonstrated in the stupid things I’ve done to see this cosmic phenomenon. I’ve spent nights in northern Scandinavia driving across borders between Norway, Finland and Sweden on several occasions in order to chase clear skies to catch a glimpse. I’ve spent countless hours researching the cause of the Aurora Polaris, learning a lot about space, the sun, our atmosphere, and plasma in the process. But what is it all for? Why do I do it?
My photography journey began at age 14 as a loose interest. As I moved through my life it became a passion. That passion twisted and turned through to the point I’ve now reached where my main focus is the cold. I’m a fan of all kinds of photography and can happily shoot a summer landscape but there really is nothing better to me than the crisp sound of snow beneath my feet and the cold, arctic air on my face (knowing I have somewhere to warm up afterwards!)
As my passion for the cold developed out of a thirst for travel I was able to hone in on what would become my forté. The travel began at a turning point in my life where I’d realised that I wanted to see more of the world and show it through my eyes, but this love for the cold really shine through that. During my first trip to Iceland I first experienced the polar night, albeit whilst not technically in the arctic itself. I arrived at Keflavik international airport and picked up my rental car in the midst of a blizzard and headed eastwards towards my hotel in Reykjavik in absolute awe of what was happening around me. I felt completely at home, which is a strange thing to say when I describe my surroundings. It was dark, cold, and the snow was thick and falling sideways. I was driving on a snow and ice coated road with howling gales buffeting the car, catching the occasional glimpse of the volcanic landscape around me through the blizzard. I was simply in awe of nature and arriving in Reykjavik and admiring the architecture I felt an overwhelming Nordic vibe. It’s hard to explain it, but it just felt right. I headed straight to bed because that following morning I needed to be up early to reach my first destination.
On just a few hours rest I stepped foot outside, back into the still raging blizzard, and put my bag into the car and headed out of the city. My route took me around the Ring Road, Route 1, and the road presented the most challenging drive I’d ever experience up to that point. I slowly crept up on a snow plough clearing the path of a mountain pass and it was the most welcoming sight as, still in the dark, I plodded along behind it with amber lights flashing in my face and snow dust kicking up and filling my view. Unfortunately on the other side of the pass it pulled off and my journey continued for another few hours until I reach what was then a pull off with space for perhaps two cars but today is a big parking lot. I was about to walk to the US Navy DC-3 wreck at Solheimasandur.
I was very proud of myself. It seems silly to say but having lived a relatively secluded life with little travel and certainly nothing independent I’d managed to get myself to Iceland, then get myself to this location the next morning in dreadful weather in time for a break in the snow and in time for the sun to rise. I was there alone for almost an hour, exploring the black sand terrain with patches of slush here and there, and climbing all over that wreckage trying to work out what happened to cause it to be downed here. I had absolutely no idea at the time what had caused this fate but through the magic of social media I became acquainted with a local legend, Þorir Kjartansson, who was in the Icelandic search and rescue team that responded to this incident decades ago and he was kind enough to meet me for a coffee to tell me all about it. But that’s another story. The weather turned and what was initially a sprinkling of snow soon became a lot bigger and a lot wetter. In my half-decent hiking boots I began the long walk back to the road (it’s a couple of miles) and I found myself getting very wet, very quick. From behind me a Suzuki Jimny appeared and I watched jealously as it approached. That jealousy soon became relief when it stopped beside me and the occupants, a pair of American brothers on a mid-Atlantic layover for a few days, offered to take me back to the road. I accepted and we shared a ride in the relative warmth of their 4x4. My first Icelandic adventure had truly begun.
I spent the rest of my first day hopping out of the car along the southwest of Iceland during breaks in the weather, absolutely loving life and definitely falling in love with this country. As the sun went down, which was very fast because days at these latitudes are very short, I began to consider my chances of seeing the northern lights that I’d heard about. I had no clue about the science behind them, I just knew that I needed a clear sky away from city lights. I also knew I was hungry so after a quick google search for Reykjavik’s best burger, this is where I ended up.
The burger joint didn’t disappoint. It may have been Iceland’s only burger bar, but it was Iceland’s best burger bar! It’s conveniently located next to a street sign that says ‘Burger Joint’ right opposite Iceland’s best fish and chips, just along the harbour from Harpa. Anyway, it was here that I made my plan for the evening and tried to work out where I should try to find the northern lights. That shot up top is from that very night - my first Aurora selfie. I had no reference at all to what I should be seeing and when I saw the faintest glow of green on the northern horizon I was blown away. Nature was making the sky go green. It was phenomenal. The weather kind of held out, with a few clouds moving through the valley, and I was awestruck with what I was seeing. I was alone on a snow covered plateau in Iceland watching nature do it’s thing. I tried to get some photos, but they truly sucked.
I didn’t know what settings to use, I didn’t know about how to compose the scene, I didn’t know how to focus in the dark, but i was living my absolute best life taking terrible photos. They serve as nothing more than evidence of what happened that night. They are my favourite terrible photos ever! I shot a little of the Aurora the following night, catching a clear pitch of sky for just a couple of minutes, and I drove and drove trying to find more. The northern lights quickly became my target and were the focus of my attention. I didn’t give up, learning through practice and education in order to make each trip evermore successful than the last. I knew when it was worth heading out and when it wasn’t. I learned how to predict not only if the Aurora would shine, but when. I became accustomed to the local weather services across the arctic regions. And having taken all the knowledge and experience I’ve gleaned on my journey, I’ve stepped up my Aurora series since that night.
I pored my knowledge into a book for those interested in seeing and photographing the Aurora, and it continues to hold the number one position on my list of favourite things. If you haven’t seen it, make it your aim to do so. And if you want to know anything about it, just ask me. I’ve loved every moment of my northern lights journey, through the failures and successes, chasing the Firefox as his tails whips across the northern skies. To me, this is the definition of passion. That was my first time. Here’s to many more nights toasting marshmallows in Lapland.
