Bathed in the mellow fire of the midnight sun, Hornstrandir in summer offers a counterpoint to its austere winter face. At this far-flung edge in the Westfjords of Iceland, a breath from the Arctic Circle, the light lingers and caresses, gilding the sheer faces of Hornbjarg in a light that feels born of another world.
This is Iceland’s last wilderness, long abandoned to time and tide. The final settlers departed in the mid-20th century, yet every summer their descendants return - to houses kept standing by memory and devotion, an untamed expanse now governed by silence, yet still touched by human longing.
Seen from above, the landscape unveils its lonely majesty: green crowns on basalt ramparts, seabirds wheeling in warm currents, and the fjords stretched out below under the summer sky. These images and the brief video are drawn from a helicopter sortie over Hornstrandir.
