To my ancestors, blue, white and gold were one indistinguishable colour.
The Road to Rettarskard
If they had come to Iceland, they would have only seen a pink glow of the sun in the snow, so faint they might just not have found Iceland at all. And they didn’t! The colours had to be invented first. I’m glad they did, though!
Have they been there?
This image is from the heath above Dettifoss.
It’s always a good day for a little tour through the sun.
It’s time for a spot of yellow.
That’s also the Icelandic way.
Fly fishers begin by observing insects along a stream. Their art follows.
Knitters are just as attentive to the natural world. Here, in a surf of lava cinders, new sweaters begin.
People follow the warmth of this care home.
The northern sun brings them out.
Both these images of Icelandic birches were taken around 3 pm in early November. In the first, the red light is brightening the colour of the birches at Geysir.
In the second, the sun is blasting through snow at Hraunfosser, without diminishing the red of the birches.
Red is not a bright colour. That is not its strength.
Dawn. (10 a..m.)
Dusk. (3 p.m.)
These are the moods of a human day, read from the land. The land remains constant.
Colour and pattern enter the mind as one. The rest is an honouring.