Light in Iceland.

The other day, as our helicopter banked on final approach to Reykjavík, we were treated to a feast of light, with part of the city awash in gold. It brought to mind a passage from my November 2025 column in Morgunblaðið, Til varnar Reykjavík (In Defence of Reykjavík):

Here the golden hour can stretch across half a night, pouring hues of liquid gold and rose over roofs and water. The sub-Arctic light that drenches this city possesses an ethereal transparency, as though the air itself were a lens of ice and fire. In winter, when daylight seems a visitor, the brief flare of sun turns the world to theatre. Reykjavík lives by such mercurial gifts, which no museum, however vast, can hoard.

Added to the Light in Iceland collection.