Magic Island.

There are places you enjoy visiting.

And then there are places that stay with you long after you leave.

Iceland has been that place for me.

The first time I went, I stayed ten days. When I came home, I could not stop thinking about the island. A few months later I booked another flight. I planned to stay for a month. The month became two. Then three. Then many more journeys followed.

What keeps pulling me back is difficult to explain.

It is not the waterfalls.

It is not the volcanoes.

It is not even the horses.

It is a feeling.

Every time I arrive, something becomes quieter inside me. I pay more attention. I sleep less. I wander more. The world feels slightly less predictable.

I never wanted to photograph Iceland.

I wanted to photograph what Iceland was doing to me.

And after all these years, I still feel like the island is keeping a few secrets to itself.