It’s not just in Snæfellsnes. It’s everywhere, really: clods of earth like curds in whey on the ground, glopped out of volcanoes, more made with a plow and seeded with pasture grass, and glops of earth in the sky, called clouds, that shade the earth like stone and make you pull a sweater around your shoulders and look up to the fields of the air.
Clods of Earth Falling from the Sky
The old saying, mocked by the Christian parable Chicken Little, which laughs at a chicken who imagines that the sky is falling, of all things, is given its original context if you stop driving around in Iceland and stand still long enough to become the wind, where the old words aren’t old. Iceland is always full of surprises like this.
This is the original world of the islands of the north that gave us the capacity of speech, and if we call only tilled soil clods now, while the ones from volcanoes are called lava and the ones in the air are called condensations of water under pressure regimes, we still draw a sweater over our shoulders when a cloud obscures the sun.
At 11 p.m. in August.
At midnight, you look West and forget churches altogether.
Well, 80 km/h on a good day.
Way too fast! Maybe you should walk?
When the seabed takes to the air as volcanic stone, the sea takes to the air as cloud to wash over it.
It seems a lot of effort, but it’s obviously worth it.
This is the fun one can have out on Snæfellsnes.
You can’t build where there is already a house. That’s just common sense, right?
The crowded burbs of Rif.
In Iceland, trees wash up on the beach after swimming over from Siberia, which is fun.
Their purpose is much like that of moose antlers in Canada or Alaska: nail them to the front door to honour wilderness… or a viking ship mast. Or a viking curse.
This is why Icelanders are such fine film makers. They are good at staging dramas in real time.
I love this kindergarten playground. Rocks that Icelandic kids have coloured, that they can cart around, roll around, or trip over as they make the monster any way they wish. How splendid!
In many countries such a dangerous thing would be banned. And people wonder why Icelanders are collectively so creative. Sea monsters. That’s the trick.