Standing once more at the threshold where ice melts into memory, my lens returns to Iceland’s shifting horizons. Retreating: Fragments of Stillness continues the story of Retreating, a meditation on fragility, awe, and the subtle unraveling of our world. I follow the slow retreat of glaciers, witness the shaping of wind-sculpted snow, and sense the echoes of what’s vanishing beneath seemingly quiet skies.

I remember that silent afternoon on June 14, 2022, standing at the raw edge of Svínafellsjökull, an outlet glacier of Vatnajökull, 320 kilometers (199 miles) away from Reykjavík. Surrounded by an expanse of grey-blue-white ice, I felt time suspended and the world holding its breath. In that stillness, the glacier spoke of change, impermanence, and vast resilience. It was a moment to see, to hear, to simply be present with nature’s long story.

Each photograph is a fragment of time, a silent witness to loss and renewal, shaped by the relentless conversation between earth, climate, and humanity. Here, nature’s transformation becomes reflection: on how we change, what we leave behind, and the hope that new landscapes, both in our physical environment and within us, are always emerging if we pause to look. It is a reminder that the only constant is change, and with it comes our responsibility for what role we choose to play in it.