The Farm Called Waterfall
A thin white line coming off the Síða cliffs onto a green field, with a farm at the bottom of it. The farm is called Foss, which means waterfall, because when you have that in your yard there is no point looking for another name.
Twenty minutes out of Kirkjubæjarklaustur on the second morning, going east with the sun still low behind us.
The Síða cliffs run along the north side of the road here for kilometres — an old coastline again, same as at Skógar — and water comes off them in a dozen places. This is the one with a name and a farm under it. A single fall, thin, dropping the full height of the wall and breaking into a scatter of smaller ones over the boulders at the bottom before it gets to the grass.
I pulled over on the gravel track and shot it from there, back at the road end, with the grass gone gold and the field still in shadow. You don’t go closer: the land in front of it is somebody’s hayfield and the buildings at the foot of the cliff are their house.
Ten minutes, no walking, and one of the frames I like best from the whole week.
- Region
- Iceland
- Nearest
- Síða, Iceland
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