Listening to basalt walls
A week of waiting for weather gaps along sheer cliffs. When the fog finally split, pillars of basalt emerged for seconds at a time—enough to capture the cadence of the North Atlantic.
The Faroe Islands are an opera of fog and wind. Each morning I hiked to the same vantage, set up the tripod, and waited. Sometimes the fog never lifted; other moments it rose like stage curtains, revealing the basalt columns long enough to compose.
I worked with a 210mm lens to compress the cliffs, balancing the exposure with a 6-stop ND that stretched the wave patterns into soft gradients. The basalt itself reflects little light, so I spot metered the water and let the cliffs drift near black, creating that suspended feeling the islands deserve.
Audio notes were as important as the exposures. I recorded the echo of waves slamming into the cavern below, which helped me sync shutter timing with the rhythm of the sea. When the swell peaked, I opened the shutter; when it retreated, I closed.
Back in the darkroom, selenium toning added gentle warmth to the highlights, matching the mood of the fog when it glowed at blue hour. The final prints feel like standing on that cliff edge—patient, listening, waiting for the next reveal.