By Chris Ayliffe, Arctic Meta
Iceland has a way of confusing first time visitors. You probably arrive expecting something wild, and you get that, but not quite in the way you imagined. There are no thick forests to wander through. No towering trees lining the roads. Just open (almost barren, at times) land, stretching further than seems reasonable.
It feels natural, almost intentional. But it is not how Iceland began. A thousand years ago, this island looked very different. There were trees, more than most people would guess, and they played a quiet but important role in shaping the land.
What happened next is a story of survival, poor timing, and a landscape that does not forgive mistakes easily. Understanding it changes how you see Iceland. The empty spaces start to make sense, and the absence of trees becomes part of the unique experience rather than something missing.
Iceland Before Humans: A Land Covered in Forests
It surprises most travellers, but Iceland was not always a wide open land of lava and moss. Around a thousand years ago, much of the island was covered in woodland. Not towering forests like mainland Europe, but thick, low growing birch woods that spread across valleys and lowlands, shaping the land in a quieter but meaningful way.
These forests were mainly made up of downy birch, a species built for endurance rather than height. Twisted trunks and dense branches helped them withstand the wild winds of Iceland (the kind that will try to take off a car door as a hobbie). Alongside them grew willow and rowan, along with grasses and shrubs that formed layered vegetation. Together, they stabilised the soil, slowed erosion, and created sheltered pockets where life could take hold more easily.
Evidence for this landscape comes from pollen buried in lakes and peat. These records suggest that up to a quarter of Iceland supported woodland before human settlement, with some regions far more densely covered than others. It was not uniform, but it was enough to give the island a very different character.
This earlier Iceland would have felt more contained. Trees softened the edges of the land. Valleys offered protection from wind, and movement through the landscape would have been slower, more enclosed (and less car door scary).
The Arrival of the Vikings and the Start of Deforestation
When Norse settlers arrived in the late ninth century, they encountered a land that seemed unusually generous for such a remote island. After weeks at sea, even modest woodland would have felt like a resource worth claiming. Timber quickly became one of the most valuable assets. Iceland had no vast forests like Norway, but it had enough to support early settlement, at least for a time.
The period known as Landnám marked the beginning of rapid and largely unplanned change (the early Climate Changers, if you will). Settlers spread out along the coasts and into valleys, establishing farms wherever conditions allowed. Forests were cleared not just for space, but for visibility, security, and control of land. Open ground made it easier to manage livestock and defend property, especially in a new and uncertain environment.
Wood was used constantly and without much restraint. Homes required frames and roofing. Tools, fencing, and everyday items all depended on timber. Fuel was a daily concern, especially during long winters when heat meant survival rather than comfort (well before the geothermal wells we are now privileged to have). There was little concept of conservation, only immediate need (similar to the attitudes of some modern day political parties…).
This was not a slow adjustment. Within a few generations, the balance tipped. Woodland that had developed over centuries was cut back faster than it could recover. Once cleared, these areas were quickly repurposed for grazing and farming, leaving little chance for regrowth. What began as practical use became widespread depletion, and the landscape shifted with surprising speed.
Timber, Survival, and the Demands of Early Settlements
Life in early Iceland was never forgiving. Settlers relied heavily on whatever the land could offer, and wood quickly became one of the most pressured resources. Homes were functional structures that needed strong frames, insulation, and constant upkeep. Even smaller items such as tools, storage chests, and farm equipment added to the demand.
Boats, though often built elsewhere, still required ongoing repair. Fishing gear, drying racks, and boundary fences all depended on timber. Fuel was an even greater concern. Fires burned every day, not just for cooking but for warmth, drying clothes, and preserving food through smoking. In a climate where exposure could turn dangerous quickly, fire was a necessity.
Without large forests within easy reach, communities worked outward from their settlements, cutting what remained nearby before pushing further into surrounding areas. Driftwood arriving on Iceland’s shores offered some relief and was highly valued, but it was unpredictable and never sufficient to meet demand. Local woodland carried most of the burden, and it was used at a pace that far exceeded its ability to recover.
As the tree cover thinned, the consequences became visible. Roots that once held soil in place disappeared, leaving ground vulnerable to wind and water. Productive land began to degrade, and small changes in vegetation started to affect wider areas. What began as resource use slowly shifted into long term environmental strain, setting the stage for a landscape that would continue to lose resilience over time, and allow the blustery North Atlantic wind we experience today to have even more impact.
Sheep Farming and the Long Term Impact on Vegetation
Sheep changed everything. Introduced by settlers, they became central to Icelandic life in a way that few other animals could. They were easy to manage, resilient in harsh conditions, and capable of surviving on land that would challenge other livestock. Wool, meat, and trade all depended on them, making sheep incredibly essential.
What made them valuable also made them destructive. Sheep graze close to the ground and without much selectivity. They do not simply feed on surface vegetation. They pull at roots, strip bark from young plants, and remove the fragile growth needed for regeneration (they even swarmed my dads driveway once…the land still hasn’t recovered). Saplings rarely survive long enough to establish, especially in exposed areas where protection is already limited.
Seasonal grazing patterns made the impact even more widespread. Sheep were often left to roam freely across large areas during summer, spreading pressure far beyond settled farmland. This prevented recovery not just in cleared regions, but also in places where trees might otherwise have returned naturally.
Over time, grazing reinforced the effects of earlier deforestation. Land that might have slowly recovered remained locked in a degraded state. The soil became thinner, vegetation more sparse, and the ability of the landscape to heal itself steadily declined.
What you see today is shaped as much by centuries of grazing as it is by the initial loss of woodland. And the sheep still mock the locals by, at present, outnumbering us 3-to-1.
Volcanic Eruptions and Their Role in Shaping the Landscape
Iceland sits on a restless geological boundary where the earth rarely stays still for long. Volcanic activity is part of the rhythm of the island. Eruptions build new land, reshape valleys, and redraw coastlines, but they do so with little concern for what already exists (trees included).
Ash fall is often the most far reaching effect. Fine volcanic particles can travel across vast areas, settling over vegetation and soil. In the short-term, this smothers plant life and disrupts growth cycles. In the longer-term, repeated layers of ash alter soil structure, sometimes enriching it, but just as often making it unstable and difficult for roots to anchor (there’s no wine valleys in Iceland as is famous in the hill of Mount Etna in Sicily).
Lava flows are more immediate and absolute. When they move, they consume everything in their path like an endless game of Hungry Hippo. Entire ecosystems can disappear in hours, replaced by hardened rock that may take centuries to break down into usable soil. These new lava fields become part of the landscape, but they offer little opportunity for regrowth in the early stages (unless you have a few millenia or two to stand by and watch)
Even less dramatic eruptions leave a mark. Gas emissions, minor ash deposits, and ground disturbance can weaken already fragile environments. For forests that had been reduced and fragmented by human activity, these repeated disruptions made continuity almost impossible.
Recovery in volcanic terrain is slow and uncertain. New soil must form, seeds must arrive, and conditions must remain stable long enough for growth to take hold. In Iceland, stability is never guaranteed. Each eruption resets parts of the landscape, interrupting natural recovery before it has a chance to progress. And, with this crazy number of active volcanic systems in such a small island, you can see the issue.
Volcanoes were not the original cause of widespread deforestation, but they acted as a constant barrier to recovery. In a land already under pressure, they ensured that what was lost would not easily return.
Harsh Climate and Fragile Soil Conditions
Iceland’s climate is not as extreme as many expect, but it creates a constant level of pressure that trees struggle to tolerate over time. Strong winds are a defining feature, especially across open plains where there is little natural shelter. These winds strip moisture from the ground, increase evaporation, and physically stress young plants before they have a chance to establish (cue the mother-in-law gags).
Exposure is a key issue. Without surrounding vegetation or terrain to break the wind, seedlings are left unprotected. Even when they take root, their growth is often stunted, forming low, twisted shapes rather than developing into taller, stable trees. This limits their ability to spread and reproduce effectively.
The soil adds another layer of difficulty. Much of Iceland’s ground is made up of volcanic material that can be fertile, but it is often loose and shallow. Nutrients may be present, but they are not always held in place. Without deep root systems to bind it together, soil can shift, dry out, or be carried away entirely by wind and water.
Winter further narrows the window for growth. Short daylight hours reduce energy available for development, while repeated freeze and thaw cycles disturb the ground. Roots can be exposed or damaged, and young plants are often unable to survive their first few seasons.
Taken together, these conditions do not prevent trees from growing entirely, but they make it difficult for them to gain a foothold. In Iceland, survival is possible, but stability is rare, and without stability, forests struggle to return as they have done since those pesky Vikings strode over and claimed the land.
Why Trees Struggle to Grow Back in Iceland Today
Once forests disappear, bringing them back is not simple. Seeds may still exist in the soil or arrive from nearby areas, but germination is only the first hurdle (you need to remember your Primary School science classes now). Young trees need a narrow set of conditions to survive their early years, and in Iceland those conditions are rarely stable for long.
Even when seedlings take hold, they face immediate pressure. Grazing animals still roam freely in many regions (let’s blame the sheep a little more), often removing new growth before it has a chance to mature. Wind exposure remains constant, drying out soil and physically stressing fragile stems. In exposed areas, a single harsh season can undo several years of slow progress.
Soil quality adds further complexity. In many places, the top layer has already been lost or weakened, leaving behind ground that struggles to retain moisture and nutrients. Without a supportive base, roots remain shallow and vulnerable, limiting long-term growth and reducing the chances of trees reaching a self-sustaining stage.
Scale remains the defining challenge. Forest systems develop over long periods, building resilience through layers of vegetation and stable soil (and maybe a more chilled climate). Recreating that structure cannot be rushed. It requires more than just planting trees, by allowing entire ecosystems to rebuild around them.
Iceland is making progress, but it is gradual and uneven. Some areas show clear signs of recovery, while others remain locked in a state that resists change. Nature is moving forward, but only where conditions allow it to, and always on its own timeline.
What Iceland Looks Like Now: Moss, Lava Fields, and Open Horizons
Modern Iceland is defined by space. Wide valleys stretch without obstruction, often framed by distant mountains that feel closer than they are. Lava fields ripple across the land like frozen waves, their surfaces rough and uneven, broken only by patches of resilient moss that slowly reclaim the rock over time (unless they encounter Bieber).
Moss plays a quiet but dominant role in shaping what you see. It softens harsh terrain, adds colour to otherwise dark landscapes, and hides the age of the ground beneath it. In some places it forms thick carpets, while in others it clings lightly to exposed stone, revealing how recently the land was formed.
Rivers cut through this openness with little resistance, carving paths that shift over time. Glacial water carries fine sediment, giving many rivers a pale, milky colour that contrasts sharply with the darker earth. Waterfalls in Iceland are seemingly everywhere, often visible from miles away due to the lack of visual barriers.
This openness is part of the country’s appeal. You can see for miles in every direction, and the scale becomes pretty wild. Distances feel deceptive. What looks close can take hours to reach, and what seems empty is often full of subtle detail.
The light also behaves differently here. In summer, it lingers, stretching shadows and softening edges late into the night. In winter, it becomes scarce and low, casting long, dramatic contrasts across the land. The weather also moves bizarrely quickly, and the same view can shift within minutes (and yes…shifting your car door while it’s at it if it so chooses).
Reforestation Efforts: How Iceland Is Trying to Bring Trees Back
Efforts to restore forests have been ongoing for decades. The Icelandic Forest Service leads many of these projects, planting both native and non-native species.
Birch is a key focus, as it once dominated the landscape. Other species such as spruce and pine are introduced in controlled areas to support growth and stability.
Progress is visible in many regions with small forests returning. Sheltered valleys are also showing signs of recovery. But it remains a long-term effort, balancing ecology with modern land use.
Where You Can Still Find Forests in Iceland Today
Despite the overall lack of trees, there are places where forests still exist. Hallormsstaðaskógur in the east is the largest forest in Iceland and offers a glimpse of what the country once looked like, before the Vikings decided to loot the wood.
Heiðmörk near Reykjavík is another example. It is a managed woodland that provides both recreation and conservation value, and is a regular walk or run for the locals escaping the small town hustle and bustle of Reykjavik’s city streets.
Give Something Back: Help Rebuild Iceland’s Forests
For all the talk of what Iceland has lost, there is also a quiet effort to bring parts of it back. Not in some grand, overnight transformation, but slowly, deliberately, and with a lot more patience than the Vikings showed the first time around (only some partial judgement here).
At the Panorama Glass Lodge, reforestation is something we actively contribute to. Each year, we plant hundreds of young birch trees across our properties. These are the same hardy, slightly stubborn trees that once covered large parts of Iceland, now given a second chance to take hold again (with slightly better odds this time).
As a guest, you can be part of that effort.
When you make a booking, you will find the option to support reforestation directly. There are two simple ways to do it, both in partnership with Acuparia Foundation, a non profit focused on restoring Iceland’s woodland.
A tree donation is the straightforward route. A small contribution goes directly towards planting new trees in Iceland, helping rebuild ecosystems that have taken centuries to decline.
If you want something a little more tangible, you can sponsor your own tree. Acuparia will plant a young tree on your behalf, place a metal tag with your name beside it, and send you a photo along with the exact GPS coordinates. It is your tree, in a very literal sense, quietly growing somewhere out in the Icelandic landscape.
The reforestation areas are publicly accessible, so if you ever find yourself back in Iceland, you can go and see how it is getting on (hopefully still standing, which in Iceland is never a given).
It is a small addition to your stay, but in a country where forests disappeared faster than they could recover, small actions are exactly how they return.
How Iceland’s Landscape Shapes the Travel Experience
The absence of trees changes how you experience Iceland. There are no dense forests blocking views. Instead, every turn reveals something new, from waterfalls to mountain peaks, and those enigmatic twisting glaciers along the south.
This, in fact, makes a road trip in Iceland a crazy epic. With long stretches of road cut through empty terrain, creating a sense of isolation and a postcard scene every few minutes, without really any exaggeration.
It is a landscape that demands attention because it is vast and quietly powerful.
Staying Close to Nature at the Panorama Glass Lodge
To fully understand Iceland, you need to stay within its landscape, not just pass through it. This is where the Panorama Glass Lodge offers something different.
Set in remote locations across South and West Iceland, the lodges are designed to immerse you in the surroundings. Glass walls frame the landscape, whether it is a lava field, distant volcano (*cough*, Hekla), or a sky filled with northern lights.
Each lodge includes a private hot tub and an on-site sauna, allowing you to experience the environment in proper comfort. It is a balance between exposure and shelter, something Iceland has always demanded.
Staying at the Panorama Glass Lodge is not about stepping directly into Iceland’s wondrous nature, with just enough luxury to make you stay a little longer than planned.
And in a country shaped by both loss and resilience, that feels exactly right.