Poet's Death

There are no words either images that could express what I have experienced … Just the feeling that overwhelms me every time I close my eyes and transport myself to this place can do it justice ... There, at night, desolate, alone, freezing, in deep darkness, with the wind, with the rain, at times the snow, with the sound of the river, the waterfall, the northern lights, my heavy breathing and the nothingness.
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Upon returning there is a feeling of depression. It breaks silently like a spell breaks.
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It is fleeting as our lapse in time. It makes you think of how finite we are and only the purest gratitude remains.
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Iceland is dramatic like the death of a poet.
Everywhere I look, I can see a poet who dies slowly ... in full desolation, in an embracing cold that numbs his body but sets his soul on fire.
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Long exposure Photography:
• 2 Min. for foreground.
• 7 Sec. for sky / northern lights.
Sigma 14mm f1.8 / Canon 5D MK IV