There is a place out there, on Eysturoy, that keeps reminding me of one night in particular, each time I pass by. Wooden field gate close to a striking mountain road, picturesquely framing the small village of Funningur, home fishing waters and rugged shoreline of the next island Kalsoy within sight. Right here, that night, I reentered the world of light.
Previously on My Faroe Islands: Fall and me being out of doors on the hunt for Northern Lights. Aurora borealis forecast: delightfully promising, except for one little thing – the local weather conditions. A kill-joy by the name of overcast night sky, causing a major disturbance. I tried my luck, here and there, but to no effect. Once I arrived in Eiði, I came up with the idea of checking out the mountain road that runs eastbound towards Gjógv and Funningur.
Half way between starting and arrival point, between boulders, grassland and serpentines: That’s when the penny dropped and I pulled over. Kaboom! All alone in the middle of nowhere, car’s headlights turned off, not a single pinpoint of light around. Have you ever been part of absolute thick complete mind-blowing darkness? Awe. The vastness of the universe. The true meaning of pitch-dark. All this I experienced that night.
Shooting a photograph of pitch-dark? Rather pointless. Compensation: aforesaid scenery by daylight. Winding road, village of Funningur (from our place: kind of just across the fjord) and home fishing waters in the month of May.