The water swirls, and the wind swirls in the water, and under the effects of a kind of spiritual gravity, they congeal.
If humans could move at their speed, they would still be swirling, but we are so fast that they appear still. We are light flickering on the surface of these flows.
And that’s beautiful, too. That’s Iceland: a country that lives at two speeds, at once.
What are fences for?
In some countries, fences are to separate herds from grain land, or to divide pasture land, for successive grazing over a season, or just to keep the stock off the road. In Iceland, it’s a bit different. It’s something people learned from the land and tried out. 
Now to figure out what is being fenced in, or fenced out! Not these reindeer. They just walk over fences.
Not these horses.
No fence required! Not the people below…
That’s not a fence, just posts to keep the people from falling over into the grass. It’s a mystery!
Perhaps it’s the dead? Such as here at Kirkjubærjarklaustur? 
Na. They can get out on the other side. 
I think it’s just a gesture, to show the mind its limits. 
This too:
So, like, a halter for the human will!
Every Day is a Fairytale in Kopasker!
Some trolls love the wind.
Others laugh at it.
It’s a good thing, because the wind is everywhere when you live in the sky!
The sea is cold up north on the Öxarfjörður.
I suggest sticking in your toe before committing yourself completely. 
Even if your horse has gone ahead. 
It can wait. 
It’s not just birds and turtles that do it.
Up on Vörsluvik, the sea gets into it too.
Here are some in the very process of being washed from the land. 
Perhaps you can see a clutch lying in a young sea in the middle of the image? 
Of course, the sea’s eggs are the land’s eggs, too. 
They do it together! 
Above Hrafragilsfoss
Nerve tissue is everywhere, lying around on the sand. If you lose your mind in Iceland, there’s always another one to take its place. Good to know!
In some countries, you fill your gardens with plants and flowers. In Reykjavik, they often look like this:
You fill them with the world.
Your house is Iceland, looking out to sea. Crazy beautiful!
This is Iceland. It’s not so friendly to human life, really, but it is sold to tourists, who want “real experience.”
The image below, made out of the experience above, is “art” in Reykjavik. It is sold to tourists, who want to be warmly received (and want to stay warm in a place not so friendly to human life.)
That’s the art of Iceland: remaining hospitable. It is a kind of mercy. Art and beauty are reduced to a line of thought here, in a language of “eye” and “body” but not so much of mind, and that line is reduced to gentle gestures, lest the bodies of visitors scare.
The language of mind (below) might just scare them off.
I’d love to see Iceland market it. Such beauty lies there.
Why aren’t shipping containers, repurposed as homes, sold in souvenir shops in Reykjavik? I think it’s because Icelanders want to give people the experience they came for. They’re generous like that.
Not that there are polar bears in Iceland, but what the heck. The practice speaks to a tremendous self confidence, and the secrecy of all islanders: everyone is the island.
All who come remain within the gesture of arrival, until they choose to either leave or stay. Everyone gets to decide for themselves. No one will help you… unless you get lost. Then you will be brought back and warmed up, and will be once again within the gesture of the island itself. It’s the same if you try to leave. You might find yourself leaving and staying all at the same time.
The island is the one doing the speaking here. Humans are almost speechless in its face.
Windows are set in walls to let the light in.
Not everyone wants the light.
A Farm in Iceland 