Northern Lights in Bláskógabyggð. 2016.

“An aurora, sometimes referred to as polar lights, northern lights (aurora borealis) or southern lights (aurora australis), is a natural light display in the Earth's sky, predominantly seen in the high latitude (Arctic and Antarctic) regions. Auroras are produced when the magnetosphere is sufficiently disturbed by the solar wind that the trajectories of charged particles in both solar wind and magnetospheric plasma, mainly in the form of electrons and protons, precipitate them into the upper atmosphere (thermosphere/exosphere) due to Earth's magnetic field, where their energy is lost. The resulting ionization and excitation of atmospheric constituents emits light of varying color and complexity. The form of the aurora, occurring within bands around both polar regions, is also dependent on the amount of acceleration imparted to the precipitating particles. Precipitating protons generally produce optical emissions as incident hydrogen atoms after gaining electrons from the atmosphere. Proton auroras are usually observed at lower latitudes.“ -Wikipedia

The Sun Emerges Briefly. 2017.

“It seems that nearly every conversation I have with overseas family and friends this time of year where Iceland is mentioned ends up with them saying something along the lines of, “Yeah, but it’s dark all the time there now, right?” It becomes clear that they picture it such that, for three months of the year, Iceland is the land of the Mole People, with its human residents stumbling around in pitch blackness or shining flashlights to keep the grues away. The Reality Is Surprisingly Complicated. Most people from lower latitudes picture distinct time periods, “day” and “night,” and think of the transition time as relatively insignificant. They also tend to picture day length by season. But neither of these concepts really apply well at a latitude of 64 degrees.

First, to go from “constantly bright” to “lots of dark” over the course of a year, day length has to change fast! In early November, we lose nearly seven minutes of direct sunlight per day. It’s enough that people with punctual schedules and a south-facing window can readily notice the decline every day. One starts November with eight hours of direct sunlight, but by the low point in mid December, it’s down to just over four. But then by the end of February it’s over 10 hours. So simply talking about how much light there is in the “winter” doesn’t give a sense of how much it varies, even day to day.

Then Comes The Issue Of, “What Do You Mean By ‘Dark’?” Just because the sun is below the horizon doesn’t mean that it’s suddenly pitch black. Now, if you live in a place like Miami, sure, there’s not even half an hour between “it’s bright enough to see what I’m doing” and “the sun is blazing in my eyes.” But up here near the Arctic Circle the sun doesn’t go as much overhead as take a low broad arc. In the summer, it arcs all the way around you, rising in the north and setting in the north. In the winter, it barely pops up in the south and sets again just a bit further west in the south. That “in-between time” gets really stretched out.

Day and night are divided into different categories based on how low the sun is and how much light is out: astronomical twilight, nautical twilight, civil twilight, and direct sunlight.

Astronomical twilight is where there is not enough light in the sky to see much of anything on the ground, but it lights the sky a little bit and blots out faint stars like having a second moon up. During the solstice, Seattle and Paris get about 12 1/4 hours that are this or brighter. Reykjavík gets just under 11 hours. That’s right, the night sky at the winter solstice is completely dark only 10% longer in Reykjavík than in such cities!

Nautical twilight is where it’s bright enough to clearly see the horizon, but not yet bright enough to do everyday activities. Seattle and Paris are at least this bright for 11 3/4 hours, while Reykjavík has 9 hours of it. So we get over three fourths as much “horizon glow” at the solstice.

Civil twilight is where it’s bright enough to do everyday activities but the disk of the sun is not yet up. Seattle and Paris have 9 1/2 hours; Reykjavík gets 6 3/4 hours, or just over 70% as much.

Finally there’s what a lot of people only care about: direct sunlight. Paris and Seattle get 8 1/4 while Reykjavík gets just over 4 hours, or only half as much. But it gets worse because while in the former cities the sun rises to an 18-degree altitude, here even in the southern side of mountainous Iceland it doesn’t muster three degrees! The most minimal of mountains can block most to all direct daylight, while any low clouds can easily turn the sun into nothing more than a fuzzy haze. Some small towns in Iceland get no direct sunlight for months on end.

So to sum up: it’s absolutely true that we don’t get much direct sunlight in the winter, and around the solstice, there’s barely any. But we do get a surprising amount of “dim.””

-The Reykjavík Grapevine

Laugarás Bridge over the Ölfusá River. 2017.

“It seems that nearly every conversation I have with overseas family and friends this time of year where Iceland is mentioned ends up with them saying something along the lines of, “Yeah, but it’s dark all the time there now, right?” It becomes clear that they picture it such that, for three months of the year, Iceland is the land of the Mole People, with its human residents stumbling around in pitch blackness or shining flashlights to keep the grues away. The Reality Is Surprisingly Complicated. Most people from lower latitudes picture distinct time periods, “day” and “night,” and think of the transition time as relatively insignificant. They also tend to picture day length by season. But neither of these concepts really apply well at a latitude of 64 degrees.

First, to go from “constantly bright” to “lots of dark” over the course of a year, day length has to change fast! In early November, we lose nearly seven minutes of direct sunlight per day. It’s enough that people with punctual schedules and a south-facing window can readily notice the decline every day. One starts November with eight hours of direct sunlight, but by the low point in mid December, it’s down to just over four. But then by the end of February it’s over 10 hours. So simply talking about how much light there is in the “winter” doesn’t give a sense of how much it varies, even day to day.

Then Comes The Issue Of, “What Do You Mean By ‘Dark’?” Just because the sun is below the horizon doesn’t mean that it’s suddenly pitch black. Now, if you live in a place like Miami, sure, there’s not even half an hour between “it’s bright enough to see what I’m doing” and “the sun is blazing in my eyes.” But up here near the Arctic Circle the sun doesn’t go as much overhead as take a low broad arc. In the summer, it arcs all the way around you, rising in the north and setting in the north. In the winter, it barely pops up in the south and sets again just a bit further west in the south. That “in-between time” gets really stretched out.

Day and night are divided into different categories based on how low the sun is and how much light is out: astronomical twilight, nautical twilight, civil twilight, and direct sunlight.

Astronomical twilight is where there is not enough light in the sky to see much of anything on the ground, but it lights the sky a little bit and blots out faint stars like having a second moon up. During the solstice, Seattle and Paris get about 12 1/4 hours that are this or brighter. Reykjavík gets just under 11 hours. That’s right, the night sky at the winter solstice is completely dark only 10% longer in Reykjavík than in such cities!

Nautical twilight is where it’s bright enough to clearly see the horizon, but not yet bright enough to do everyday activities. Seattle and Paris are at least this bright for 11 3/4 hours, while Reykjavík has 9 hours of it. So we get over three fourths as much “horizon glow” at the solstice.

Civil twilight is where it’s bright enough to do everyday activities but the disk of the sun is not yet up. Seattle and Paris have 9 1/2 hours; Reykjavík gets 6 3/4 hours, or just over 70% as much.

Finally there’s what a lot of people only care about: direct sunlight. Paris and Seattle get 8 1/4 while Reykjavík gets just over 4 hours, or only half as much. But it gets worse because while in the former cities the sun rises to an 18-degree altitude, here even in the southern side of mountainous Iceland it doesn’t muster three degrees! The most minimal of mountains can block most to all direct daylight, while any low clouds can easily turn the sun into nothing more than a fuzzy haze. Some small towns in Iceland get no direct sunlight for months on end.

So to sum up: it’s absolutely true that we don’t get much direct sunlight in the winter, and around the solstice, there’s barely any. But we do get a surprising amount of “dim.””

-The Reykjavík Grapevine

Spiral Staircase in Reykjavik. 2017.

“Reykjavík is the capital and largest city of Iceland. Its latitude is 64°08' N, making it the world's northernmost capital of a sovereign state, and is a popular tourist destination. It is located in southwestern Iceland, on the southern shore of Faxa Bay. With a population of around 123,300 (and over 216,940 in the Capital Region), it is the heart of Iceland's cultural, economic and governmental activity. Reykjavík is believed to be the location of the first permanent settlement in Iceland, which, according to Ingólfur Arnarson, was established in AD 874. Until the 19th century, there was no urban development in the city location. The city was founded in 1786 as an official trading town and grew steadily over the next decades, as it transformed into a regional and later national centre of commerce, population, and governmental activities. It is among the cleanest, greenest, and safest cities in the world.“ -Wikipedia

Reykjavik Family Park and Zoo

“Seals, foxes, reindeer, minks and all the Icelandic farm animals are part of the Family Park and Zoo in Laugardalur valley in Reykjavik. It's an ideal place to visit with your children. The Family Park and Zoo is run by the sport and leisure department of Reykjavík City. It is located in the Laugardalur valley where you will also find the botanical gardens of Reykjavik, which are also taken care of by the city. The zoo has all the Icelandic farm animals, reindeer, harbour seals and arctic foxes. It also has a selection of birds, such as hens and pigeons and a small exhibition of foreign reptiles. In the recreation park you will find a string of attractions such as a carousel, a train, boats on water, segways and other fun things to do for children as well as family barbecue facilities and resting areas. There is also a coffee house and kiosk that sells souvenirs and a selection of beverages and soft ice.” -City of Reykjavik

Reykjavík from the Air. 2017.

“Reykjavík is the capital and largest city of Iceland. Its latitude is 64°08' N, making it the world's northernmost capital of a sovereign state, and is a popular tourist destination. It is located in southwestern Iceland, on the southern shore of Faxa Bay. With a population of around 123,300 (and over 216,940 in the Capital Region), it is the heart of Iceland's cultural, economic and governmental activity. Reykjavík is believed to be the location of the first permanent settlement in Iceland, which, according to Ingólfur Arnarson, was established in AD 874. Until the 19th century, there was no urban development in the city location. The city was founded in 1786 as an official trading town and grew steadily over the next decades, as it transformed into a regional and later national centre of commerce, population, and governmental activities. It is among the cleanest, greenest, and safest cities in the world.“ -Wikipedia

Winter Sunset. 2017.

“Iceland is a Nordic island country of Europe located in the North Atlantic Ocean. It has a population of 332,529 and an area of 103,000 km2 (40,000 sq mi), making it the most sparsely populated country in Europe. The capital and largest city is Reykjavík. Reykjavík and the surrounding areas in the southwest of the country are home to over two-thirds of the population. Iceland is volcanically and geologically active. The interior consists of a plateau characterised by sand and lava fields, mountains and glaciers, while many glacial rivers flow to the sea through the lowlands. Iceland is warmed by the Gulf Stream and has a temperate climate, despite a high latitude just outside the Arctic Circle. Its high latitude and marine influence keep summers chilly, with most of the archipelago having a tundra climate.“

Sunset along the Ölfusá River. 2017.

Due to Iceland's location on the rift between the North American and Eurasian continental plates, the country experiences a great deal of volcanic and seismic activity that generates an immense amount of geothermal energy. So even in the coldest of winters, parts of this fairly calm river remain liquid due to the heat generated from below.

Icelandic Wool. 2017.

“The Icelandic sheep are direct descendants of the sheep brought here by the settlers in the 9th century. Much like the Icelandic horse, they’re a unique breed, carrying characteristics long disappeared from their relatives on the continent. Like their ancient forefathers, the Icelandic sheep have fleeces that are divided into two layers. This is an integral part of what makes Icelandic wool so special. The long and coarse hair of the upper layer are called tog. It works in a similar way to an overcoat and repels water. The lower layer is called þel. The Þel hairs are shorter, softer and fluffier, making them perfect for insulation.

For a long time, these two layers were separated by hand and used for different purposes but that process was very labour-intensive. During the 1920s, new, faster methods of wool production were invented and the lopi was born. Lopi (the word originally meaning unspun wool) consists of the two layers mixed together, producing a thread that’s light and warm, but also tough and waterproof.

Icelandic sheep have always been bred in a variety of colours, and some farmers even pride themselves on preserving specific colours. This, of course, means that Icelandic wool comes in as many colours as there are sheep. The most common ones are black, white, with various shades of brown and grey rounding out the selection. Besides these basic “sheep colours”, lopi is also dyed various beautiful and vivid colours as well.

Lopi is popular for knitting because of the dual-fibre structure that makes lopi garments warm, waterproof and light. Whether you intend to make a hat, scarf or the famous Icelandic lopapeysa, Icelandic wool is easy to knit with, light and makes a beautiful fabric. Because of the special, loose way the wool is spun, when the yarn breaks it’s easily fixed as two yarn ends can be attached by twisting them together. It also felts easily, making it great for felting projects. Lopi isn’t great for clothes that are worn closest to the skin since it can feel scratchy (although washing the garment with hair conditioner will help with that), but if you can get your hands on lambswool, that’s a different story.

It’s self-cleaning! Lopi fabric needs to be hand-washed, but luckily, it almost never needs to be washed! Due to the structure of the hair fibres, bacteria doesn’t stick to wool like it does to cotton or synthetic materials. The only times you need to wash your wool garments is when they get stained (which is rare, since they’re also mostly waterproof). Otherwise, airing them out will usually do the trick.

Fun fact; wool doesn’t burn, either. It will light up if you put it directly in the flame, but will also self-extinguish as soon as you take it out of the flame (that said, we don’t recommend doing this at home).”

-WhatsOn.is