The Icelandic Winds: a Force to Be Reckoned With

This house, hiding behind its collapsed turf buildings near Buðir talks of a country where a landscape view from your picture window is just not really very important.

Hraunhöfn

Whats more, its an old harbour 2 kilometres from a lagoon and 2.5 from open salt water at the Buðakirkja. If you have been at Buðir in the winter winds, you will know why.

That sand is ground up scallop shells. At 70 miles per hour, it cuts into your face like sharp knives. You will have a hard time just standing up straight.

Christian Loneliness and Hope in the Icelandic West

After the end of the Christian age, the dead are a bit alone at Hellnar.

Truth is, the graveyard has become a pasture, blowing in the wind under the volcano.

And the hope and loss and grief of all the families that have lost men at sea, is a bit at sea, too.

Let us still honour them, and carry them.

The Heartbreaking and Strangely Uplifting Graveyard in Helena

First, with their church.

Next, with their hay bales. Looks to me like they have been bundled up for harvest themselves.

Next, from their sanctuary.

So must 1100 years of Christian dead comfort themselves when their parishes, and faith, is lost among the living.