When feeling lost in Iceland was exactly where I was meant to be.
“Whenever I question my decision to return to Iceland and the sacrifice it takes me to get there, I think back to that moment at the Arctic Henge when destiny reminded me that I was right on time.”
Confession; I was once a skeptic. If science couldnt prove it, I didn’t believe it and the idea of destiny or the universe alluded me. Much has changed since then and when my dream of seeing the Northern Lights in the furthest reaches of Iceland came true, I had no explanation besides that it was just destiny. This is that story. I hope it inspires you to believe.
When chasing a dream led me elsewhere.
My travels to Iceland have gifted me countless memories. I will never forget the first time I witnessed neon red lava erupt at Fagradalsfjall or discovered my first “hidden waterfall” in a cave. From sailing through the West Fjords to seeing the sparkling glacier cap while hiking above Skogar with two mountain sheep, Iceland never falls short of her charms.
Above all, I will never forget the first time I saw the Aurora, a phenomenon that seemed to evade me for years. As they say, timing is everything, and this moment gave me the greatest gift of all: hope.
It all began with a red-eye flight I was not supposed to take. It was July 2021. My trip to Norway had been canceled, so I booked a ten-day solo camper van adventure around Iceland’s iconic ring road. It was my first time alone out of the country and in a camper van. This trip was inspired by a novel I had published about Norse mythology, and I longed to see the land that birthed these tales.
After spending weeks researching the sights, I finally nailed an itinerary that included stops such as the tourist favorite Golden Circle, majestic black sand beaches, and the mystical Godafoss waterfall. Little did I know this was the beginning of a torrid love affair I would have with this country.
During the flight, I was too excited to sleep. I sat awake gazing out the window. Infinite glittering stars filled the darkness. It was a beautiful sight, and I couldn’t deny the feeling that this trip was destiny.
Upon first sighting the sloping green hillsides, volcanic smoke plumes, and misty fields of the Reykjanes peninsula, I felt a strange familiarity. If Iceland could talk, she would have said, “Welcome home.”
That trip came and ended: a whirlwind of driving the ring road, hiking across green pastures, waterfalls, rainbows, misty mountains, and moments that made me feel as if I had stepped into a real-life fairy tale.
Solo travel humbles you, and soul-searching is an inevitable side effect when you are on the road for hours.
I departed Iceland with the strange nostalgia that would accompany me on every single trip there since.
It wasn’t long thereafter a return flight was booked. I wanted the Northern Lights or the Green Lady, and I was determined to find her.
What is the Aurora?
Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights, the Green Lady, the Southern Lights, and Valkyrie Shield—the sky phenomena that fascinate nature enthusiasts, scientists, photographers, and travelers worldwide.
What is the aurora ? Science tells us that it is the sun’s activity which causes the green dancing lights in the night sky. Solar storms on the sun’s surface give out clouds of electrically charged particles that travel millions of miles. When the particles reach the earth’s atmosphere, they collide with atoms, creating this unique green, purple, pink, white, and sometimes even red glow.
The color is related to what gas atom it collides with. Green is oxygen, whereas purple is nitrogen. The closer this happens to Earth, the more likely we will see it, yet many factors determine its visibility to the human eye.
Aurora trackers use a KPI index to measure the likelihood of the aurora. The index measures the aurora’s visibility based on the sun’s geomagnetic storms. The higher the index, the more likely the aurora can be seen with the human eye.
The best nights to go searching are clear without a full moon, a high KPI index, and in my experience, the later in the night, the better your chances are. (although I saw them with a full Strawberry moon, so you never know!)
However, as I was about to find out, this is never a guarantee, and it is called a phenomenon for a reason.
A date with destiny…
In December 2021, I booked my first trip to Iceland for the winter season. I had already experienced Iceland’s midnight sun—the fields of purple lupine, the sounds of the loa’s song, lush green cliffsides, and grazing sheep.
I chose a quaint cottage on the Snaefellsnes peninsula as a stay because of its abundant open sky and dark nights. It was cozy, peaceful, and the perfect setting for a date with the green lady, except she never showed.
Night after night, after exploring the wonders of Snaefellsnes, also known as “Iceland in miniature,” I stood outside the cottage at night, watching the sky with wonder, waiting, and checking my Aurora app.
Perfect conditions. Yet all that stared back was the darkness and the glittering stars.
Before you get discouraged, Snaefellsnes is a proven and excellent location to view the Aurora, but I was slated for another destination. Sometimes, I joke that this is Iceland’s way of getting me to return by never giving the entire lot away in any one visit!
I returned home, strangely even more attached to this place. My travels had taken me to the historical Guðrunlaugur, the haunted gorge, and across the vast Buðir lava field, where I witnessed the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.
My nights were filled with books, contemplation, sipping hot chocolate, and listening to the wind rock the cottage’s walls. It was the simplest trip I have made to Iceland, yet so magical.
At some point during my planning phase for my next visit, I came across a photograph of the Aurora over the Arctic Henge. I read its caption, stunned at how I had missed such a place during my Ring Road adventure.
The Arctic Henge is a pagan sundial in Iceland’s most northern town of Rauforhofn. A recent installation, it is dedicated to the Eddic text Völuspa, in which an unnamed seer delivers the prophecy of Ragnarök to the Norse god Odin. When completed, the Arctic Henge will capture sunrays, casting shadows in precise locations.
It is a prized destination for travelers seeking the tranquility it offers and is believed to be a place of pilgrimage for those who follow the old ways.
The photograph grabbed me. It was breathtaking and brilliantly composed. An otherworldly green sky set the holy arches aglow. I had to go there, but the drive was daunting and would require time.
That’s when the dream arrived. Months later, I was in the planning stages for my next trip to Iceland. In this dream, I stood at the Henge, watching the Aurora. I awakened, feeling as if I was destined to witness the aurora there first, but until I went there, I would never see it.
That year, I returned to Iceland twice, including on another winter trip, where I booked two Northern Lights tours in Iceland’s south and western regions.
A guided tour had taken a group of us into the countryside to search. The KPI index was hight, the sky was dark, and the air was cold. Despite our guide’s best efforts, there were no lights, yet I refused to give up.
The entire tour had boarded the bus, all but me. I stood alone, staring at the dark sky, waiting and full of hope that she would show. The winter air cut through my puffer coat as I clutched a lukewarm hot chocolate with numb fingers. Finally, with a heavy heart I boared the bus.
My hopes sank, wondering if it ever would happen. I felt as if the Aurora was hiding from me.
All the while, my dream of the Arctic Henge haunted me.
Being lost in Iceland is the best thing to be
The following year was challenging. I felt lost, questioning my path in life ahead. I had rediscovered my passion for writing and was now disconnected from my daytime career. I craved authenticity and yearned to connect with my true self.
But as I would soon discover, your purpose would always find you, no matter how lost you are. For me, it took traveling to another continent to meet it again.
I booked another trip, this time a one month long camper van adventure around Iceland. On the itinerary; The Arctic Henge.
Taking unpaid leave from my job was nerve-wracking, and I lay awake many nights wondering if I was crazy. Questions loomed about my future and why I repeatedly felt so pulled to return here.
Little did I know the Northern Lights were waiting with my answer.
Destiny is always on time
It was late in the day when I began the drive from Ásbyrgi Canyon to the Arctic Henge. The road was empty and long, stretching over vast fields beside the sea. There was nothing but me, my camper van, and the quiet beauty Northern Iceland offers.
I had been on the road for two weeks now and had already seen so much, including the completion of the iconic Fimmvorðuhals trek with a group of strangers who were now friends.
Although I was having the time of my life, sailing to the remote Hornstrandir preserve, picking blueberries, and whale watching off the north coast, the questions I had arrived with loomed.
I arrived at the Henge around sunset, parking my camper in the small lot below. The walk to the sundial was short and uphill. At the top, a few people lingered.
The sun sat low on the horizon, and the air was still. There was little noise despite the occasional cry of a gull or the gentle lapping of the ocean.
Darkness fell, and the people left. I was alone now, just me and the stone arches and deafening silence. Gathering a blanket around me, I sat on the ground and leaned against the stones. I stared at the night sky in contemplation. Now what?
The questions arose, and I asked them out loud. They did not come without tears.
I felt angry for doing this. Was I foolish, leaving a job behind to take off with a camper? What was the purpose of this? Why was I here?
I repeated the questions, hoping an answer would arise inside me. All that existed was silence, the stone arches, and a lone traveler feeling lost as ever.
Then came the tranquility. It hugged me close like a mother would hug its long lost child. I have no words to describe this otherworldly peace i felt there, besides divine.
After some time, I gathered my blankets and walked down from the henge to my van. I brewed tea and sat inside with the door half open. Despite the cold, I craved the air in this place.
I thought the night was over, but destiny is always on time.
I couldn’t tell you how long I sat there with my tea. It took a half hour or more, but I noticed movement in the sky at some point. Sliding the door open, I stepped out, my eyes fixed on the faint green aura above. I can recall my heartbeat quickening—the disbelief. My stomach was in knots from anticipation.
Within minutes, the green intensified. It was as if I was witnessing my dream unfold. Time stood still as I jumped out of the van, my wet eyes never leaving the changing sky. What I saw took my breath away.
The spectacle filled the northern sky. It was as if the heavens had opened; green light curtains danced above like ribbons unraveling. They swung and swirled with the immense grace of the most skilled dancer as a distant hum filled the silence.
Camera in hand, I ran up the hill; my gaze never left the sky.
I arrived at the Henge in utter disarray, boots unlaced, one glove missing, and, to my dismay, no memory card in my camera, but nothing could move me from this place: every second mattered. Destiny was unfolding, and it was all a result of my choice to come here.
The show continued well into the night. I sat in awe of its beauty and the disbelief that I had foreseen this moment.
In Iceland, they have a saying, Tillhera, which means to belong. There was no doubt I belonged to this moment and place. This was my Tillhera.
Following this evening, I found myself on a farm in Modrudalur for three days, avoiding a nasty storm in the south. My travel plans changed, and I spent the days photographing Arctic foxes and writing. I lost time here, and this is one of my favorite memories of Iceland.
My travels eventually took me south, where I linked up with Midgard Adventure for two tours and a writing collaboration that has led to friendships.
During my recent trip, I was lucky to meet Mr. Iceland at his horseback riding establishment, where I confided this story over a dinner of locally sourced lamb. Choking back on my tears as I told of this night at the sundial reminded me how much this moment meant to me.
That evening I saw the most spectacular lights display I have seen yet. It was as if she was reminding me I was right where I belonged.
I went on to do some writing for Mr. Iceland, and one of my articles was recently published in The Journal, a local magazine in the United States.
When people read it, they say, “This makes me want to go to Iceland!” I smile, for that is the biggest compliment I could receive.
Never in my dreams would I think my writing would be published in a magazine, and every time I see The Journal at a local establishment, I pinch myself.
Somehow, in a remote town in Northern Iceland, I had received the answers to my question: Why was I led here?
The answer was simple: just to be here.
Now, whenever I question my decision to return to Iceland, the sacrifice, the work, the decisions a few would deem insane, I think back to that moment at the Arctic Henge when destiny reminded me that I was right on time.
Life is a series of beautiful moments. They come fast. Be sure to enjoy them and always follow your heart. It will always lead you right.
Tips for Northern Lights Hunting
The Saga continues —> Midgard Adventure- Unveiling Icelandic Destiny
Behind the Shot- Photographing Arctic Foxes
The best place to camp in Iceland
