Spending a shoulder season in a residency in Ísafjörður, a remote town in Iceland’s Westfjords, as winter slowly gives way to summer. The landscape shifts in tone. Encounters with locals, immigrants, and transients unfold against a backdrop of mountains and fjords—at once enclosing and holding.

This temporary world is marked by modest routines: shared rides to isolated hot springs, sauna and cold water baths, a daily Bragðarefur from the roadside diner. A visually tense dialogue emerges between raw natural purity and the stark hues  marking human presence. Between homes and countries, a little farewell party is taking place at the edge of the world.