Iceland: Reyisfjara – The Black Beach


The woman stood on the shore, looking out to sea. She raised her camera and pressed the button – wanting to capture sea, shore and stack.
Black on white.
White on black.
Shingle on spume.
And hold it forever.

But the North Atlantic is a wild animal. While the woman fixed her eye on the Reynisdrangar sea stack, it crept up from behind; silent-footed. Too late, the woman looked down to see it close in on her. She started to run but the tide was faster than her. Soon it was snapping at her heels, pulling at her ankles and dragging her down – devouring woman and camera.
Then turned its back on her and slipped away. She pulled herself from the churned-up sea and stood up – dripping wet but alive.
Others have not been so fortunate. The sea is a killer here.

Reyisfjara is a wild place – of heaving ocean and great chiselled columns of basalt; of razor-ragged sea stacks and a beach black as death.

But the basalt beach has glints of light in it, a littering of diamonds in among the black stone.

At Reyisfjara the northern light and sea washes this landscape clean. It burns with an intensity and brightness that is almost blinding.
White on black.
Black on white.
Spume on basalt.
Sea on shore.


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