In the south of Iceland, the Black Sand Beach looks across the Atlantic towards theAntarctic. On the direct way from the north to the south.
The beach stones come from volcanic rocks. To the east, there seems to be a cavern. It is covered by mosses and many white birds rest on it quietly. The cavern’s entrance is like an ogive. It is supported by basalt columns decreasing their height in the direction of the ocean. Beyond the cave, two rocks raise farther away in the Atlantic. One of them looks like an eroded minaret.
To the west, very close to the shore, there is a small island. Icelandic myths say this island is a petrified troll caught by daylight while crossing through the waters from thewest to the east of the beach. Farther to the west, a huge mass of rocks raises from the ocean and one of them took the form of a gate. The ocean currents are extremely powerful and one is advised to stay away from the shore. The wind pushes me away from the street curb while taking a picture of the beach.
This landscape seems to have never been touched by the man. So sovereign on its identity and mystery, it discourages through its silence and solemnity. Its solitude betrays though that it would hide some spirits…and some things which I cannot even imagine or say out loud.