The world is bigger at dusk, the farther away it is.
It is good, I think, to go to bed when one is as small as a stone.
~
Skagafjörður
Sometimes, limestone catches the Arctic wind.
Dryas octopetala (White Dryad)
One is best to stop and read one’s self. Take your time. This book has more than one word.
As the sun sets over the Skagafjörður and the peninsular pillar of Þorðarhöfði, the waves bring it onto the black sand beach of Gardssanður with a promise of dawn.
And not just of dawn but of eternity. Maybe it’s not definable otherwise, but it sure is here: Eilíifð, roughly translated as “eternity,” better as the “living on”, in the sense of survivors (such as settlers in Iceland, in the midst of such a sea.) Such is the haunting pleasure of islands.