A sunny and desolate beach. A barren coast with muddy waters. The cold rush of the ocean breeze. Sparse farmsteads dotting the treeless plains around. A distant angry thunderstorm rushing to dump water.
I don't know what attracted my friend and I turn turn our car down the rocky road to this beach. Perhaps it was last spit of land before the frigid Arctic. Perhaps it was the confluence of a vast glacial-carved river valley with the windswept beach. Perhaps it was the only bit of sunlight surrounded by choppy weather.
The Kia struggled to navigate the maze of boulders before it finally gave up. I stood and looked out, gazing forlorn at the vast emptiness of the landscape around. The ominous clouds were primed to dump rain, leaving us but a few minutes to soak in the last bit of light. In the distance, a small clearing lit up a portion of the dark hillside. Whether it was rain or sun, I don't remember.
I was a few photos in, when the breeze became colder, and the first drops made their appearance. I ambled to the car, already turned around by my friend. We waved goodbye to the lonely land.
There was nothing else around, save the car and the open road. Adventures await.
Garossandur
Iceland