Above the famous cascade of Skógafoss, the Skógá River winds through a moss-carpeted highland valley that looks assembled from the raw materials of a dream — electric green hillocks rolling in every direction, dark volcanic rock breaking through the turf, and the river itself threading silver and blue through the gorge below in a series of small rapids that catch the last extraordinary light of an Icelandic evening. A curtain of geothermal mist rises from the left hillside and catches the sunset in a wash of ghostly warmth, while overhead the sky has erupted in a full confrontation between deep violet storm cloud and blazing crimson, the two systems meeting directly above the valley with an intensity that renders the already surreal landscape nearly impossible to believe.
This is Iceland operating at its most maximally itself, every element of the composition dialed to a register that would seem excessive if the camera had not been there to confirm it. The vertical format pulls the eye from volcanic gravel underfoot all the way through layered green hills, mist, river, mountains, and finally that incandescent sky in one long, breathtaking journey. A landmark piece for any serious collection and one of the most visually complex images in this entire body of work.
