map of iceland - naturepl.com · fire and brimstone, waiting to burst out. iceland casually...
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Indicated are areas of interest
Map of Iceland
Glacier ice on the sea shore, Öræfi
Hot springs at Hveravellir.
Goðafoss falls in the Skjálfandi river.
Born of ice and fireAt about 103,000 km² in area, Iceland is the second largest island in Europe, after Great Britain. It just touches the Arctic Circle at 66.3˚N and balances on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge – a mountain range beneath the waves, which is constantly pulling in opposite directions.
In geological terms Iceland is young, with the oldest Icelandic rock dating at only 16 million years old. But Iceland’s geological history stretches much farther back in time than the dating of its rock indicates. The Iceland of yesteryear has sunk into the ocean depths, forming an underwater ridge between Greenland and Scotland. The island is constantly being reborn. Why? Be cause Iceland lies atop an unusually powerful upwelling of magma; a hotbed of glowing-hot fire and brimstone, waiting to burst out.
About thirty percent Iceland’s area is volcanically active, which has contributed to its unique geography. The whole island is built up of basalt, mainly layer upon layer of lava. Occasionally in the vicinity of large volcanoes the basalt crust becomes so hot that it partially melts and forms rhyolite, responsible for the colourful mountain ranges in the volcanic zone.
There have been several disastrous eruptions in Iceland’s history. Lava flows and volcanic ash has been deposited over large areas of the country with disastrous consequences. Glacial floods, caused by eruptions under glaciers, have also had a severe impact, sweeping away farms and livestock and making the land barren with sand and till deposits.
The eruption of Eyjafjallajökull in 2010 gained international attention and started when photographers Orsolya and Erlend Haarberg were busy with their project in Iceland. The volcanic activity began on 20 March 2010 on the eastern slopes of Eyjafjallajökull. About 24 days after that small eruption had died down, volcanic activity resumed on 14 April beneath
the Eyjafjallajökull ice cap, eight kilometres west of the first site. Melt water started flooding into the rivers which drain off the mountain to the south and west. The volcano erupted with great power. On the farms south of the mountain, fields and meadows disappeared under thick ash and it was dark as night, throughout the day. The ash plume was drawn into the wind circulating over mainland Europe, paralysing air transport. For a time aviation ground to halt in Europe.
The Eyjafjallajökull eruption was explosive, and of such awesome power that glowing rocks the size of cars flew high into the air, to land hundreds of metres from the crater. The eruption came to an end in May 2010, after which the people of the Eyjafjöll region could set to work to reclaim their homes and their lives. Yet this eruption of Eyjafjallajökull was, by the standard of Icelandic volcanism, a minor one.
Iceland also abounds in geothermal energy. Rainwater, filtering down through the porous layers of earth and rock, heats up due to the unusually high temperature of the crust. The hot water and steam then rise up through fissures in the rock. Some, though not all, boiling springs are also eruptive – sending up a spout of water. Iceland’s best known example is Strokkur (“Churn”), which sends up a column of boiling water every few minutes, as regular as clockwork.
In the volcanic zone are many mud springs, with a mixture of water, liquefied rock, and steam. These form where the groundwater contains a high proportion of carbon dioxide, hydrogen and sulphur - a highly acidic “soup” that can easily break down solid rock to form a viscous mud. Mud springs bubble and spit, undeniably reminiscent of a witch’s cauldron. The natural hot water in geothermal areas has been a boon for the Icelandic nation in their cold climate, as it is used to heat cities, homes, even streets. It is likely that the natural hot water was one of the island’s attractions for
the early settlers. The early Icelanders were quick to discover the pleasure of bathing in warm spring water, as bathers do today in Iceland’s many swimming pools, hot tubs, and geothermal spas such as the famous Blue Lagoon. In those times, the hot springs were also used for washing laundry and cooking food. Even today delicious rye bread is baked in the hot ground adjacent to the springs.
Iceland’s nature is like a developing embryo, still in the process of creation, and we do not know exactly what will become of it. In the past Iceland was believed to have risen from
the waves, spitting lava, ash and thunder but we now know that this is not the case and that it represents what remains of a land-bridge that once connected the European and American continents thirty to sixty million years ago. At that time the ecosystem of Iceland was that of a humid, warm-temperate land, with forests comprising a mixture of deciduous and coniferous trees, including giants like sequoias, and tulip trees. Exotic mammals wandered the prehistoric landscape. Then the frozen hand of the Ice Age fell on the Earth, not so very long ago – about 2.6 million years – and changed the face of the planet.
Cold periods, one after another, encased the infant island in an icy coat which extended far out to sea, but it continued to spout lava and ash which formed into beautiful mountain ranges beneath the massive ice cap. Outside the volcanic zone, glaciers carved deep valleys and fjords out of the bedrock. After each period of glaciation, life forms colonised the island once more, only to be wiped out when the ice returned, the expanding glaciers crashing over woodland and carpets of mosses to the sea.
The last glacial period came to an end about
11,500 years ago. The ice thawed fast, and plant life and small creatures became re-established, carried on the winds and by migrating birds. Little by little the lowland was carpeted in birch woods. Birds crossed the ocean to nest in new habitats. The island stayed that way for a long time, bathed in summer by the rays of the midnight sun and in winter by the mutable glow of the aurora borealis. Homo sapiens stumbled up on the undiscovered island about eleven centuries ago. The new arrivals liked the look of the place, settled, and called their new home Iceland.
Hrafntinnusker is one of Iceland’s most spectacular high-temperature geothermal fields. In an eruption in 871 AD, the mountain spewed light-coloured pumice and ash which spread far and wide. Known as the Settlement Layer because it coincides so conveniently with the arrival for the first settlers in Iceland, this layer is the cornerstone of tephrochronology in Iceland. Identifying deposits from known eruptions helps archaeologists determine the age of historic sites.
A Land of Contrasts
Rays of sunlight imbue the landscape with life. Winter gives way to spring in the mountains of Þórsmörk.
Iceland is a realm of dark and light; of hot and cold; shades of grey and vibrant colours. Where barren landscapes juxtapose verdant ones; cacophonous sound is set against hushed silence. It is a land of contrasts.
In Icelandic we have a saying: “The guest’s eye sees clearly”. And those words came to my mind when I first saw the work of photographers Orsolya and Erlend Haarberg. What has captured their interest above all are the contrasts that met their eyes everywhere in the landscape.
DARK - LIGHT
Löndrangar are two pillars of basalt salt which stand majestically like guardians on the south shore of snæfellsnes. They formed long ago as plugs in volcanic craters, and erosion by the waves over the centuries has gradually worn away almost all the surrounding rock to leave the plugs standing alone. In the background, a glimpse of the slopes of Mt. Snæfellsjökull.
Dark and light are clear, striking contrasts in Iceland. Due to its northerly position, during the short summers Iceland is bathed in the 24-hour daylight of the midnight sun, while winters are long and dark. During the darkest winter months the sun is aloft for only two or three hours a day.
In Iceland it is common to see darkness and light harmonising with each other – a landscape of mountains rising from a sea of shadows, wearing a crown of sunlight. Or the glittering snowfields of a dark winter, reflecting the light of the moon and stars.
But perhaps the most captivating spectacle of dark and light is the dance of the aurora borealis or northern lights. They sweep across the night sky, gracefully spreading out their twining banners of colourful light. This phenomenon, caused by the interaction of solar winds and the magnetic field of the Earth, is only visible close to the Earth’s magnetic poles. It is a joy to all those who must live through the long, dark winters in northern climes.
Mossy ridges of hyaloclastite typify the landscape in the southern uplands. Here the rays of the evening sun peep through lowering banks of cloud to illuminate a mountain.
[Left] Black-legged kittiwake (Rissa tridactyla) flies above a northern fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis) with a glory in the background (an optical phenomenon caused by the backscattering of light). Hornstrandir Nature Reserve.
[Above] On Jökulsárlón, Iceland’s biggest glacial lagoon, ice floes float majestically, nature’s own works of art. Some are opaque white, others span a spectrum of blue. This is due to the interaction of light and crystals in the translucent ice.
The full moon shines down on the hot springs at Námafjall. There is no zephyr of wind, and the steam floats up vertically into the air.
Northern lights over Mount Kirkjufell
At Leirhnjukur, acidic steam surfaces through solidified lava.
Glacier ice on the sea shore, Öræfi
Northern gannet (Morus bassanus) streching, Langanes peninsula
Warm sunlight penetrates the dark landscapes of Iceland’s highland interior, evoking a mystical realm.
Apparently rimed with frost, the plants are actually covered with midges, while more of the tiny insects swarm above. A mating swarm of midges by Lake Mývatn.
HOT - COLDEruption of Eyjaflallajökull 2010. Spectacular flashes of lightning within the volcanic plume are typical of eruptions from under ice or sea.
Iceland abounds in contrasts of hot and cold and it is hardly possible to imagine a more extreme contrast than a volcanic eruption forcing its way up through the ice of a glacier. Looking at roaring red-hot lava emerging from the frozen glacier, one literally feels the immense heat of the fire versus the coldness of the ice. Geoscientists tell us that beneath the island is a “hot spot”, once hidden away beneath the glaciers of the Ice Age: a bed of glowing-hot fire and brimstone, waiting to burst out.Iceland casually juxtaposes warm and cold colours; red, yellow and orange side-by-side with blue, grey and black. Icy glacial rivers and lakes exist alongside boiling hot springs and seething mudpots.
It is not difficult to see why Iceland has been nicknamed the “land of ice and fire”.
Eyjafjallajökull erupts, 2010. Ash and glowing lava are flung into the air with indescribable energy.
A sea lion of ice melts on a lonely beach at Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon.
Viscous mud springs bubble and spit in high-temperature geothermal areas such as Hveravellir and Námafjall in the highland interior. The colours of mud springs vary according to their mineral content; a greyish-blue tone indicates clay minerals.
The arctic fox is Iceland’s only native species of land mammal and is well-adapted to both hot and cold climates. Arctic foxes famously change colour with the seasons, from a brownish coat in summer to a pure white in winter. Most of Iceland’s arctic foxes, however, don’t have a white winter coat. Instead, they moult to a lighter brown with a blue sheen, and are known as “blue morph” foxes.
During the harsh months of winter, an arctic fox curls up to conserve heat.
With the coming of spring, foxes become more active, as demonstrated by this individual jumping across a thawing stream.
Eyvindarhver fumarole at sunrise, Hveravellir.
An arctic tern feeds its young on sand eels at the Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon.
Glacier ice on the sea shore, Öræfi
[Above] Wood mouse (Apodemus sylvaticus) feeding with ash plume from the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in the distance.[Left] A hot spring spouts at Hveravellir, as a solitary puff of cloud shines in the midnight sun.
The Litlanesfoss waterfall in the Hengifossá river flows through beautiful columnar basalt formations. The columns form as hot lava cools, solidifies and crystallises.
[Above] People walking on Svinafellsjokull glacier in the Vatnajokull ice cap, Skaftafell National Park. The crevassed surface is caused by meltwater. [Above right] Aerial view of rivulets on the Langjökull glacier. Meltwater is channeled into streams that enter cracks in the ice.
[Below right] As meltwater drains down to lower elevations, it can lead to the formation of ice caves, like the one opposite at Landmannalaugar (below right).
SHADES OF GREY - VIBRANT COLOURS
Búðahraun lava field, Snæfellsnes. The mighty grinder that is the north Atlantic ocean constantly breaks down and smooths the rocks on the seashore.
Nature often places opposite colours side by side, achieving an effect of balance, imbalance, peace, calm, tension or movement. Grey is neutral, inert, and easily influenced by other colours. A splash of sunlight awakens it to life, and a patch of moss campion with its delicate pink blooms lends depth. In that way grey is imbued with life and character.
View down to Pjórsárver, to the east of the Hofsjökull glacier. Rivulets flow from beneath the glacier in this area of tundra, which abounds in ponds and palsas and boasts remarkably rich vegetation for this altitude – 600 metres above sea level.
Nature’s embroidery. The mighty Jökulsá á Fjöllum glacial river has delineated a delicate pattern in the sands, while a tendril of Bluish willow (Salix callicarpea) valiantly resists the advancing silt.
A kittiwake rides the upstream by wave-battered cliffs of columnar basalt at Arnarstapi, Snæfellsnes.
The Hveravellir high-temperature geothermal area in the highland interior has long been a popular port of call with travellers. In the past, outlaws were believed to hide out here, no doubt due to the benefits of the hot water.
[Left and above] Aerial view of rivulets on Landeyjasandur. The colourful river meanders through grey sands, stained red in places bu iron compounds from the earth.[Below] The same iron compounds give the water a vivid tint in this brook at Fjallabak
Nature paints with a rich palette in Landmannalaugar. In the foreground is the Sveinsgil ravine, while in the background steam rises from the high-temperature geothermal field at Hrafntinnusker.Iceland has whole mountain ranges of rhyolite, whose extraordinarily rich palette of colours spans the whole spectrum of nature, often in sharp contrast to the dark basalt landscape around them.
Juxtaposed hues are to be found everywhere in Iceland; rich, iron-red rocks amidst their grey neighbours, the colourplay of basalt, water and light split into a rainbow and a brown-grey arctic fox among colourful spring flowers.
But uniform hues are common here, too. Particularly the consistent greys of basalt and solidified lava.
At sunset, grey landscapes can light up with colour, creating a unworldy atmosphere sometimes enhanced by mist or water.
Tourists walking on Blahnjukur volcano, Rhyolite mountains, Landmannalaugar
Flowering Lupins (Lupinus sp) in front of the Svinafellsjökull glacier, Skaftafell National park.
BARREN - VERDANT
The Icelandic lowlands are green and fertile in spring and summer – but they account only for one-quarter of the country. The island’s interior is a cold, uninhabitable region of rugged uplands, glaciers, barren sands, multi-hued rocks, gravel ridges and mountains of all shapes and sizes. Nature shapes works of art through raging glacial rivers and limpid spring-fed brooks; it embellishes its canvas with colourful rhyolite and glassy black obsidian, verdant cushions of moss, candy pink blooms of Moss campion; creates contrasts between coal-black volcanic sands and shining white glaciers; plays with billowing geothermal steam and bubbling mud springs. This region is wild and mostly stark and barren. Yet here and there, surrounded by wilderness, are patches where vegetation thrives, attracting birds and insect life.
All the more reason to admire the hardy, dainty flowering plants which come to life after the long dark winter months, waking up to bloom bravely in spring – even in this apparently lifeless landscape.
The contrast between seasons is a striking one in northerly climes – with the barren snowfields of winter giving way to lush spring foliage. It is not uncommon to see plants flowering near to glaciers or icy lagoons.
Autumn leaves stirred by a storm. The Downy birch (Betula pubescens) is hardy, and adapts to the prevailing winds.
The sun casts its light on a bare mountainside in the Reykjafjöll mountains in the Fjallabak Nature Reserve.
Autumn colours at Hraunfossar, with birch trees (Betula pubescens) and bog bilberry (Vaccinium uliginosum).
[Right] Driftwood is carried by ocean currents from the shores of Siberia. In the West Fjords, driftwood was a prized and indispensable resource in past times, used for building, furniture, boats and fences, and also as fuel. Today it lies largely undisturbed.
[Left] The lava field which flowed in the Skaftá Fires eruption of 1783-4 is the largest lava flow on Earth in historic times. Over the past two centuries, moss has gradually carpeted the rough, jagged lava. Photographer Orsolya was pleasantly surprised when the white head of an arctic fox popped up as she was taking photos in the lava field.
Wherever plants can be found in Iceland, a water source is never far away.
Hraunfossar falls and the Hvitá river in Autumn
[Clockwise from top right] Moss campion flowering near the Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon; Cotton grass in the rhyolite mountains; Grasses growing among smoking lava; Moss campion on barren ground.
[Right] Hverfjall crater the other side of Myvatn Lake with dry stems of Wild celery (Angelica archangelica) in foreground.
[Left] Two ptarmigans feed in front of ice caves at Hrafntinnusker. Blending in like rocks among the bravely-growing grasses, they will soon moult into white winter plumage, maintaining their camouflage.
CACOPHONY OF SOUND - HUSHED SILENCE
Red knots are passage migrants, which stop over in Iceland in spring and autumn on their migration from Western Europe to their breeding grounds in Greenland and Canada. Here they rest and build up their strength on a beach on the Snæfellsness peninsula.
The profound silence of the wilderness, broken perhaps by the plaintive call of the great northern diver. The crashing of the surf on the south shore in winter’s storms, in contrast with the frozen quiet of the glaciers, broken only by cracking sounds booming from the depths of the ice cap. The cheerful chorus of migratory birds breaking the silence of winter, each singing its own song as they celebrate life and new beginnings. The deafening din from a cliff of breeding birds, contrasted with the brief respite in the middle of the spring night when the nesting birds are at rest.
Two male ptarmigans in winter plumage nestle in the snow. In the background a lava field and crater at Mt. Leihnjúkur near Lake Mývatn.
[Above] Háifoss (“High Falls”) in the Þjórsárdalur valley is the second-highest waterfall in Iceland, at 122 metres. The Fossá river cascades over the falls here before flowing into the might Pjórsá farther downstream. In the background is the smaller waterfall Granni (“Neighbour”). [Above right] Ardeyjarfoss at sunset. It is widely regarded as Iceland’s most beautiful waterfall, in its magnificent setting of columnar basalt.
[Below right] Iceland’s waterfalls are no less spectacular in winter than in summer. Gullfoss (“Golden Falls”), seen here, in its mighty coat of ice.
Despite having only one land mammal (the arctic fox), Iceland is home to a range of bird species including ptarmigans, puffins and long-tailed ducks.
Gannet colony at Langanes. Northern gannets are a migratory species. They live out at sea all year, but during the nesting season they cluster together on bare cliffs.
Winds and ocean have worked together to shape the coast of Iceland. Here at Arnarstapi, Snæfellsnes, the waves have carved vaults and caverns in the battered rocks.
Iceland’s coasts are alive not only with the sounds of crashing waves but also its abundant wildlife, including gannets, harbour seals, eider ducks, orcas and puffins.
As two male arctic foxes jostle for dominance, a vixen sneaks discreetly away. An indication of the impact of the fox over the centuries is that the Icelandic language has twenty different names for the wily Reynard.
[Above] Snow buntings, known to Icelanders as sólskríkja (sun-tweeters) are admired for their melodious song and celebrated in many Icelandic poems and songs.
[Right] Courting razorbills at Langanes. The razorbill is a relative of the Great auk (alca impennis), which died out on the mid-nineteeth century in Iceland.
[Right] Atlantic puffins nest in dense, noisy colonies. They are unique for growing a new bill each year. The big, colourful bill of the breeding season is shed for a smaller, muted winter bill.
A harbour seal at play in the surf by the Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon.
To take pictures of Iceland is an experience that lasts a lifetime for a nature photographer. This land is still in transition. Even if one can not see a volcano coming to life, the lava fields of different ages, the steam evaporating from the Earth’s crust; the hot springs and geysers keep reminding us of the gigantic forces in action deep below the ground. The various forms of basalt that are building up most of the island, the rhyolite mountains, the geothermal fields all have breathtaking hues firing the imagination of the photographer; as do the coastline rock formations and the numerous waterfalls. Furthermore there are no trees to block the fantastic views. Rich bird populations and easy-to-approach animals in great numbers inspire animal photographers.
We first visited Iceland in 2008 and worked the summer season with the Wild Wonders of Europe project; an initiative to present the most beautiful natural heritage sites in Europe. Spending time by Lake Mývatn, we witnessed the mass swarming of non-biting midges and captured images of the ducks that live around the lake. We were also photographing puffins, razorbills, common
guillemots and northern gannets on the coast and arctic foxes in the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve. We were blessed with dry and mostly sunny weather which was most welcome.
In the spring and fall of 2010 we spent four months in Iceland. Our timing was perfect, as the volcano under the Eyjafjallajökull ice cap broke out the day after our arrival, on 14 April. The weather made it challenging to take pictures of the Eyjafjallajökull, as the crater was mostly shrouded in low hanging clouds. The snow and ash patterns covering the volcano, the height of the ash cloud and the sight of glowing lava kept changing. The weather did too, allowing the volcano to show a different face to us every day.
In the autumn, we went on several hiking tours in the Fjallabak Nature Reserve. This time, the weather was grey and rainy which bizarrely was a good thing for a photographer allowing us to perfectly catch the real colours of the landscape. Even though in mid August we were photographing in a snowstorm near Hrafntinnusker, we had to wait until the end of September to be able to catch the colours
of the autumn in the wonderful birch woods near Hraunfossar.
Returning to Iceland in January 2011, we had expected cold and snowy weather but a grey, mild winter awaited us instead. We had almost lost hope to be able to take snowy pictures of Iceland, when winter finally came for a few brief weeks in March. Better late than never, we thought. On snow covered black lava fields the monochrome tones were perfect for photography; the landscape offering some of the most beautiful sights of all in what we called the land of contrasts.
Erlend & Orsolya: The photographer’s perspective
Photographs taken by Erlend and Orsolya Haarberg have won awards in several international photo contests, including BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year, GDT European Wildlife Photographer of the Year, and Nature’s Best Photography Awards. Their first book Lapland – the Alaska of Europe, was published in English and Hungarian by ALEXANDRA in 2008, and in German by National Geographic Germany in 2009. Their latest book Iceland in All its Splendour was published in September 2012 by FORLAGID/OPNA. It is available in English, German and Icelandic.
Unnur Jökulsdóttir is an Icelandic writer. Her bestselling books Kjölfar Kríunnar (“The Wake of the Kría”) (1989) and Kría siglir um Suðurhöf (“Kría Sails the South Seas”) (1993), were co-written with Þorbjörn Magnússon, recounting their years sailing the world’s oceans on a small yacht which they built themselves. She later wrote Íslendingar (“Icelanders”) (2002), working with photographer Sigurgeir Sigurjónsson. Unnur has also written a children’s book, Eyjadís (2003), and Hefurðu séð huldufólk? (2008), a book about traditional Icelandic beliefs in elves and other supernatural phenomena. She now works at the Mývatn Research Station, and is writing a book on the nature and ecology of Lake Mývatn, in collaboration with Árni Einarsson.
Orsolya at Arnastapi in a winter storm.
Erlend in Dimmuborgir, with dancing Northern Lights in the sky.
