I consider my relationship with nature as a long and unfolding conversation, like learning a language that I can never master. And this conversation is never dull. Like most discourses, it only improves with time and age, to reach a point where a constant connection evolves and grows, with almost daily realisations.
After all the recent hype over the northern lights, NASA announced back in June 2014 that the sun's polarity had finally flipped and we were beyond the peak of the current Solar Maximum - a period of supercharged solar activity that usually occurs every 11 years and serves as a catalyst for spectacular northern lights displays.
Rain that fell on Iceland anything from 500-1000 years ago is only now being drunk - and some of it in gin and tonics. The rain that lands on lava rocks slowly soaks beneath the surface, and so dense and extensive are the layers of rock that the rainwater takes several hundred years to drip through.
One of the greatest things about travelling in Iceland is the unavoidable sense of adventure, arriving on something akin to a moonscape, unsure of what lies ahead. Departing knowing that no matter how many times you return the butterflies will never fade. Everyone has a different adventure when they travel here and no matter how many times they return the journey is never the same.