Spectacular Skógafoss
In a country full of spectacular waterfalls, and despite the obvious drawback in that one can never expect to experience this place alone, Skógafoss has been the one to set my pulses on red alert each time I’ve visited. Ok, so that’s only twice - well three times if you count the very brief pit stop we made here on the long journey east to Stafafell - but the mere sight of it makes for a display of extraordinary power. Not only in terms of the improbable physics that are happening right there in front of you, but also in the hold that it will take on your senses as you stand here at the bottom. Sixty metres tall and twenty-five wide, this is where the highlands end abruptly as that huge curtain of water crosses the divide and plummets down to earth in a resounding crescendo right there in front of you. There are bigger waterfalls in Iceland, but you can’t stand underneath many of them like this. And this one has such pleasing dimensions, that clean and uncomplicated single drop perfectly proportioned and surrounded by clouds of vapour that make you wonder whether you should have brought some shower gel and a bath towel. And a thermos full of piping hot coffee to help with the hypothermia afterwards.
We’d come here after breakfast on our third morning in the area, having agreed that the misty grey conditions would suit the subject well. Ironic that when we’d passed through here a week earlier, there had been a bright rainbow right in front of Skógafoss. There had also been a large number of visitors, taking endless Instaselfies as they tripped from their coaches and raced excitedly towards the action. That day we had to wait for a space in the large car park, such was the popularity of the place. Finding the visitor numbers too distracting, we soon moved on, although perhaps we should have photographed that rainbow and made merry with the clone tool later. At that stage we were getting rather blasé on the subject, having spent the previous day photographing a particularly fine example at Háifoss. But there were no more waterfall rainbows for the rest of the trip, and little did we realise we’d missed our chance.
Arriving in the middle of the morning seemed to have paid off. Although far from empty, the car park was noticeably quieter than last time, and with the aid of that trusty pair of welly boots I was soon paddling about in the shallow river, setting the tripod low to bring that foreground rush of water towards the bottom of the frame. And miraculously in these moments there were chances to get the shot with only minimum numbers of stragglers to contend with. There’s always someone standing as close as they dare to, but I only had to airbrush two spectres from the scene here. Bring your wellies and you can often go to places where others can’t.
Last time we came to Iceland, on that final night before heading back to Reykjavík, I got what became my favourite shot of the trip in the form of “Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators,” where I was that person standing as close to the white wall as I dared to. And now, an hour after this, I took my favourite shot of this second adventure with “The Watchers.” Very possibly my two most loved images of all time in fact - from a personal point of view anyway. I’m starting to wonder whether or not it’s a coincidence the place delivers pictures that make me feel this happy. I’m quite content with this one as well for that matter. While Skógafoss keeps giving me moments like these, I’ll carry on coming back for more.
Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/50702613408/in/album-...
The Watchers: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/52420303660/in/album-...
Spectacular Skógafoss
In a country full of spectacular waterfalls, and despite the obvious drawback in that one can never expect to experience this place alone, Skógafoss has been the one to set my pulses on red alert each time I’ve visited. Ok, so that’s only twice - well three times if you count the very brief pit stop we made here on the long journey east to Stafafell - but the mere sight of it makes for a display of extraordinary power. Not only in terms of the improbable physics that are happening right there in front of you, but also in the hold that it will take on your senses as you stand here at the bottom. Sixty metres tall and twenty-five wide, this is where the highlands end abruptly as that huge curtain of water crosses the divide and plummets down to earth in a resounding crescendo right there in front of you. There are bigger waterfalls in Iceland, but you can’t stand underneath many of them like this. And this one has such pleasing dimensions, that clean and uncomplicated single drop perfectly proportioned and surrounded by clouds of vapour that make you wonder whether you should have brought some shower gel and a bath towel. And a thermos full of piping hot coffee to help with the hypothermia afterwards.
We’d come here after breakfast on our third morning in the area, having agreed that the misty grey conditions would suit the subject well. Ironic that when we’d passed through here a week earlier, there had been a bright rainbow right in front of Skógafoss. There had also been a large number of visitors, taking endless Instaselfies as they tripped from their coaches and raced excitedly towards the action. That day we had to wait for a space in the large car park, such was the popularity of the place. Finding the visitor numbers too distracting, we soon moved on, although perhaps we should have photographed that rainbow and made merry with the clone tool later. At that stage we were getting rather blasé on the subject, having spent the previous day photographing a particularly fine example at Háifoss. But there were no more waterfall rainbows for the rest of the trip, and little did we realise we’d missed our chance.
Arriving in the middle of the morning seemed to have paid off. Although far from empty, the car park was noticeably quieter than last time, and with the aid of that trusty pair of welly boots I was soon paddling about in the shallow river, setting the tripod low to bring that foreground rush of water towards the bottom of the frame. And miraculously in these moments there were chances to get the shot with only minimum numbers of stragglers to contend with. There’s always someone standing as close as they dare to, but I only had to airbrush two spectres from the scene here. Bring your wellies and you can often go to places where others can’t.
Last time we came to Iceland, on that final night before heading back to Reykjavík, I got what became my favourite shot of the trip in the form of “Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators,” where I was that person standing as close to the white wall as I dared to. And now, an hour after this, I took my favourite shot of this second adventure with “The Watchers.” Very possibly my two most loved images of all time in fact - from a personal point of view anyway. I’m starting to wonder whether or not it’s a coincidence the place delivers pictures that make me feel this happy. I’m quite content with this one as well for that matter. While Skógafoss keeps giving me moments like these, I’ll carry on coming back for more.
Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/50702613408/in/album-...
The Watchers: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/52420303660/in/album-...