Arctic Norway by the Sea — Part 2: Why I Shoot Long Exposures
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read
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This is Part 2 of my solo road trip through Arctic Norway. If you caught Part 1, you'll remember it rained almost the whole time — so waking up on this second morning to actual sunshine felt like a small miracle. I spent the entire day working my way along the coast: rock slabs sliding into the sea, tidal pools holding perfectly still water, and mountains trailing me from one stop to the next.
A morning on the coast
My first stop was all about reflection. The tide had receded and left mirror-still pools among the rocks, so I set up to catch the mountains' reflection in the water. I reached for a polarizer — which sounds backwards when you're chasing a reflection — but on a reflection this perfect it doesn't kill it; it actually evens out the brightness between the bright sky and the darker water. A minimalist first frame, and I was happy ! I then moved up to a sea inlet where the waves were crashing harder by the minute, grabbed a vertical composition before the water reached me, then found the scene of the day: a little pool glowing with the most vibrant green algae, waves breaking just behind it, the mountains still in the background. That green was unreal.
Why I shoot long exposures
If there's a theme to this day, that's it. Almost every frame I made was a long exposure, and the reason is simple: the moment you have movement in a scene, smoothing it out changes everything. Flatten the waves, blur the branches, stretch the clouds, and a chaotic scene turns calm. Sitting by that sea, was I impressed by the raging waves? Not really. Was I feeling calm and inspired? Completely. So that's the image I want to make — one that shows the calm I actually felt. It's also the best tool I know for simplifying a busy scene: strip the detail out of the ripples and the waves, convert to black and white, and you're left with something simple.
Scouting under the midnight sun
The rest of the morning was mostly scouting. Up here, above the Arctic Circle in late May, the sun never really sets — you get 24/7 daylight, which means the best light arrives somewhere between 11pm and 3am. It's a gift and a curse: you have all day to find your compositions, then have to come back in the middle of the night to actually shoot them. The only catch is sleep. The plan is always to nap in the afternoon and head out at 10pm… and I never manage to sleep when I should... One spot didn't need the night, though. I stopped at a big lake among marshland and worked the edges until I found a view over a small island with mountains stacked behind it. I set up and waited for the light to land exactly where I wanted — on the island, with shadow behind it for contrast — and when it finally came, I shot a four-frame panorama. Beautiful.
Part 3 is still to come — Thanks for following along !
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