Sure, those big fancy city trolls are all fine and good.
But wild trolls, such as the one in the middle upper right below are best.
You never know when you’ll meet one.
Don’t let the novelists fool you. When the land goes to sea, it is a whale.
It’s just the way of things in a poetic landscape.
Note the little elf in its spume!
If you’ve lost your head over the beauty of Iceland, don’t worry.
You can always get another one.
They’re lying all over the place.
Sure, a ptarmigan on the Selá, Christmas dinner, easy to identify.
And an elf bird in its nest in the hraun, not Christmas dinner, easy enough.
But a cairn in the Villingadalur, that looks like an elvish bird, tricky.
Yet, it’s by it that you find your way through elf country to Christmas dinner.
They come from eggs laid in crystal nests, of course.
Easter Cave, Neskaupstaðir
Trolls have almost human faces. Almost.
And long tongues that snake out underfoot.
That fall over the cliff and make the sea.
Neskaupstaðir Nature Conservancy
That’s right. The sea is troll spit, full of fish and dreams.
If you are in the Easter Cave at Neskaupstaðir at sunrise on Easter…
…not only will you be wet and cold (or drowning) …
… but you will see the sun rise straight out of the cave’s mouth, where seals, it is said, turn into men.
And men, presumably, into seals.