Iceland Winter

January in Iceland is a commitment. Four hours of grey light, then darkness. The cold is not dramatic — it is just steady, patient, and absolute.

The aurora first appeared on night three, after two overcast nights that made me wonder if I had made a mistake in the timing. It started as a faint smear of green, then built into something that moved and pulsed in ways I had not expected.

Jökulsárlón, the glacier lagoon near the south coast, was the strangest landscape: icebergs drifting out to sea, crashing onto the black sand beach at the ocean's edge, ice worn into shapes that looked deliberately sculpted.