Remember Me (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Sólarupprás

Iceland, 2016 (Part 1)
20th Life
The professor and the photographer
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Spring was Ágúst's favorite season.

It was the time of year when the sun rose and set at regular times and, after the dark winter months, it came as a relief. Even in the south of the country, some days could see as little as four hours of sunlight. This, of course, made Ágúst's job difficult—it was not easy being a nature photographer, when one could not see nature.

So, when late winter rolled around and the days began to grow longer, it never failed to make him happy. He could really begin working again, when winter died, and spring came into being. Of course, people enjoyed the snowy landscapes he would take in the middle of January, right at noon only an hour after the sun had risen; he liked them too. But, to him, in winter everything began to look the same. The same soggy fields, the same houses dusted with white, the same brown hills.

Behind him, the car horn honked, and he turned to see Gunnar glaring at him through the windshield. "Hurry up!" he called, rolling down the window and leaning out. "I have places to be, you know!"

Ágúst laughed. "Like where? You never go anywhere!" He turned back towards his camera as Gunnar let out a loud, sarcastic laugh and rolled up the window.

He was standing on the side of a long, twisting road, less than an hour north of Reykjavík. The sky was grey and cloudy, as it often was that time of year, and a thin mist shrouded the tops of the nearby cliffs. A turf-roofed church sat in the distance, surrounded by a simple stone fence. It was one of the typically Icelandic landscapes he often saw circulating around the Internet, and he smirked as he leaned forward, peering through the viewfinder. He quickly focused the image and took the shot, the shutter clicking as he pressed the release.

Leaning back, he inspected the photo. It was good enough; he was sure the magazine would like it. He would have liked to get some close-up pictures of the church—it seemed to be at least one hundred years old—but he was sure Gunnar would leave without him if he stayed much longer. Besides, he was not paid to take pictures of buildings, however old they may be.

He carefully replaced his camera in its case and collapsed the tripod. Gunnar started the car as he approached, and Ágúst tossed his things into the back before climbing into the passenger seat.

"Finally," Gunnar mumbled, yanking his seatbelt across his chest and clicking it into place. "I didn't think you were ever going to finish."

"Why did you offer to come if you're only going to complain?" asked Ágúst, as they pulled out onto the road. It was quiet, with very little traffic; Ágúst had seen only three other cars in the past twenty minutes.

Gunnar scowled. "I had forgotten how annoying you are when you take photos. Everything has to be perfect and just right—"

"These are for the magazine," Ágúst pointed out. "They have to be at least kind of good."

"What article are these even for? What sort of story needs pictures of an old church in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's about unknown sights near Reykjavík," Ágúst explained. "Just... nice places near the city that not a lot of people know about."

"That was a sight?" Gunnar asked, one eyebrow raised. "How?"

Ágúst scoffed. "People love things like that. Especially tourists." He shrugged. "It's pretty; the quintessential picture of Iceland, you know? Not everyone hates pretty things like you."

"I suppose that's why I can tolerate you," Gunnar said with a laugh.

Ágúst rolled his eyes.

Gunnar grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "Where are we going now?" he asked, as they turned a corner, and the sea came into view on the left. Ágúst could see the town of Hofn across the water, its white buildings standing out against the brown grass. Great black hills rose up on the right, covered in basalt; the slopes seemed almost smooth, with only the tops being rocky and jagged. The hills were completely bare of any life, the volcanic rock no doubt too harsh for any plants to survive in.