On A Burning Thin Line, Chapter III
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On A Burning Thin Line by Lane Coder, Chapter III
When we arrived to the Glacier Lagoon the next day, there was no time to be wasted. At this point, we only had two nights left in Iceland. Unsurprisingly, the previous week passed in the blink of an eye.
When we got to the lagoon it was afternoon already, even though I had hoped to arrive towards the end of the day to catch a softer light. Nonetheless, the striking contrasts between the ice, the sky and the tiny colourful specks of auqa created a breathtakingly scenic view that looked painted, as if not real. The skyscrapers back home dwindle in comparison to the caps of ice that rose for miles in front of us.
To get to the lagoon itself, you have to cross a bridge. I was blown away by the sheer size of it; mesmerized by the massive chunks of ice scattered across the black beach (all the beaches in Iceland are volcanic and therefore black). It was unlike any coastline I had ever seen before; one of Mother Nature’s most beautiful places. She has had some help, though: climate change has melted this thousand year old glacier, forming the exact lagoon in which we stood. It is gigantic.
Coming from New York, I’m used to feeling small.
In a place so magnificent, hordes of tourists come from all over the world. Locals too; teenagers mainly. Each with an own story to tell, they snapped selfies amidst a trail that stretches from the lagoon to the water speckled with pieces of ice.
As I attempted to capture the lagoon’s essence in a unique way —concerned with making my account stand out from the rest— I became fascinated with the photographing people surrounding me.
The most memorable was definitely a lady in a wheelchair, which was equipped with special, giant rubber wheels that enabled her to move through the rugged, frosty terrain.
Iceland’s geography generated the perfect setting for magical creatures, whose alleged existence sparks environmental protests to this day. Trolls, elves and goblins are common in the country’s folk culture. Standing here, in front of endless valleys of volcanic landscape, with moss growing over it everywhere, it’s easy to see why this belief in the mythical is so widespread and common.
A journey like this one; the journey of a lifetime – it doesn’t feel real.
Suddenly you’re put in places. You’re put in front of a kind of beauty you’ve only seen in photographs. As we headed back towards the hotel, I thought of the journey we took from the volcanoes in the West up to the glaciers in the East. I remember thinking how watching the sunset would have been the perfect way to finish the most surreal week of my life. But as usual, Iceland’s summer sun refused to descend.
Photography. Lane Coder
Words. Aleksandra Klimowicz
Map. Ángela Palacios
Traveller/s
Lane Coder
Photographer
Lane Coder was born and raised in New Canaan, Connecticut. He attended Parsons School of Design in New York City where he studied fine art. Moving to Paris, he began studying art history at the American University of Paris. From 1999-2000 He finished his studies at Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California, where he graduated with a BFA in Photography in 2003. A such, Lane enjoys working both as a commercial and fine art photographer. Amongst many others, his clients include “Vogue US”, “American Elle”, “The New York Time,”.
@lane_coder
