Light falls gently over Lake Myvatn. The winter ice that has formed a diamond-hard shell over the lake’s surface is softening, revealing pale blue water glimmering beneath. The first signs of spring are emerging in north-east Iceland, about 65 miles south of the Arctic Circle.
Remnants of snow make an ermine collar around the lake’s shoreline and redpolls chirp in birch woods as leaf buds wake and uncurl. It’s quiet, too. All I can hear is that rare hush heard in the few wild places where nature still owns the landscape.
Today the vista is a scene of melting serenity that belies the region’s violent natural history. Over thousands of years, seismic activity has torn open the earth, throwing land and water up into the air like jigsaw pieces. Volcanoes have raged, the molten lava forging astonishing new landscapes out of old.
A gyrfalcon in flight (FLPA / Alamy)
Sweeping wetlands, black lava fields, pseudo-craters, cinder cones and flat-topped mountains are all found around Myvatn-Laxa, the special conservation area that surrounds the lake. Here, volcanoes rumble, steam bursts randomly from geysers, and sulphurous mud pools bubble and hiss – it’s the kind of living landscape that geography teachers yearn for their students to see.
While Myvatn is starkly beautiful, it’s the skies – or, rather, what’s in them – that bring me here. By day, I am hoping for a glimpse of a fabulous bird of prey, the gyrfalcon, the largest and, many say, the most beautiful bird of the falcon family; and, by night, the aurora borealis, the ethereal colour display whose magic outshines the brightest constellation.
One of the best ways to spot a gyrfalcon is to take the road that loops for 22 miles around the lake’s shores. Just like the birdwatchers, gyrfalcons are drawn to the lake by the large numbers of ducks, geese and other water birds that live and breed here. Using lakeside pillars and posts as vantage points, gyrs wait, still as sentry guards, until they spot their next meal.
Then they take to the sky with spectacular speed and grace, dipping, diving and rolling at their prey until it is forced to the ground to be eaten there or scooped up, takeaway style, and devoured elsewhere.
Which is what the white female gyrfalcon perched on a roadside moss-covered lava formation appears to have done. She is hunched over her kill, so it’s difficult to see what kind of duck she has caught, but whatever it is, it wouldn’t have stood a chance. Engineered beautifully, this gyr has the power and speed that only a bird with a wingspan of up to 4ft and a body weight of almost 5lb can generate.
Steam rises from a volcanic geyser (Stockbyte / Getty Images)
Now with a belly full of duck, she looks up and in a split second is off, exposing angel-white underparts as she flies over the lake. Her mixture of brawn and beauty is beguiling; little wonder the gyr has been the falconer’s bird of choice for centuries.
As early as the Middle Ages, kings and emperors fell under the spell of the gyrfalcon, sending ships thousands of miles to bring back wild Arctic gyrs – in all of their earthy shades from chalk white and deep clay to tree-bark brown and charcoal grey – either as a treat for themselves or to give as feathery treasure, a gift more precious than jewels.
It’s not just gyrfalcons that bejewel the skies, there’s the northern lights, too. Just like the falcons and other Arctic wildlife, their appearance can’t be guaranteed but Myvatn’s remote northerly location and minimal light pollution means there’s good chance of seeing them here.
Did you know?
The gyrfalcon features prominently in Icelandic folklore and is the country’s
So it is, with thermals on and fingers crossed, that I stand under a night sky bursting with stars, waiting. Then at about 10.30pm, veils of eerie green light start to wisp and swirl through the sky. Pulsating, the lights glow red, as if the sky is blushing, slowly filling the night with wing-shaped fragments of flickering pink light that remind me of a Danish myth about the origins of the aurora.
The myth tells of swans flying so far north that their wings become trapped in ice. As the birds flap and flex their wings to escape, their incredible struggle is reflected in the sky as the northern lights.
Of course, the scientific explanation – of contracting and expanding gases and charging particles – is less romantic , but it doesn’t diminish the colourful spell the lights cast. Standing here, it feels magical to know that as solar winds collide and atoms crash above me, Iceland’s gyrfalcons sleep on into the night, heads tucked safely under their wings, oblivious to it all.
A gyrfalcon on the lookout for prey (David Hosking / Alamy)
Iceland Air (0844 811 1190; icelandair.co.uk) offers non-direct flights from London to Akureyri (the closest main airport to Myvatn) from £384 return. Myvatn is a scenic 60-mile drive from the airport, taking about an hour and a quarter. Europcar (0871 384 1087; europcar.co.uk) offers four days’ car hire from £158.
Sara Evans travelled with the wildlife specialist Naturetrek (01962 733051; naturetrek.co.uk) on its four-night, small-group Gyrfalcons and Northern Lights tour. The tour departs in February each year (next departure February 6 2015) and costs from £1,595 per person (two sharing), including return flight from London, all transport, four nights’ full board and guiding.
The best hotels
Vogafjós Guesthouse ££
Cosy log-cabin style rooms with private bathrooms and free Wi-Fi set in an atmospheric lava field on the lake’s eastern side (vogafjos.net; doubles from £85).
Comfortable and friendly hotel located on the south side of Lake Myvatn, with sauna, restaurant and excellent lakeside views (myvatn.is/english; doubles from £79).
Hotel Reynihlíð ££
Contemporary hotel in village location on the east of the lake, with restaurant, lounge bar and sauna (myvatnhotel.is/en/home-reynihlid; doubles from £112).
The best restaurants
Located inside a cowshed, the fabulous Vogafjós serves delicious traditional home-made dishes made from local produce. You can watch cows being milked while you eat, too .
Well-regarded restaurant belonging to Hótel Reynihlíð with an extensive menu featuring local specialities including smoked trout, Arctic char and lamb .
Hotel Gígur ££
Pretty hotel restaurant with views from the southern side of the lake and tasty menu options ranging from grilled salmon to rhubarb panna cotta (Skutustodum, 660 Myvatn).
What to avoid
If you plan to take photographs of the northern lights, be aware that most compact cameras won’t capture them; an SLR on a very slow shutter speed is recommended.
During winter, public transport around Myvatn is limited or non-existent. Private tours or car hire are a better transport option.
Don’t be tempted to drive off road – it’s prohibited and poses a threat to wildlife.