The surface is not Iceland.
It’s just weather.
Best to keep that in mind. Beautiful, isn’t it!
(You can read more about the eggs, and view an image without the oil tanks, here.)
They stretch hauntingly into the distance, almost unwalked by human feet.
Pretty fine on a calm day!
The sand is so black, every little thing on it is a revelation from a spirit world.
But! But! But! Not on a windy day. It would be ghastly out there, as the drifts show.
A blizzard of black sand! Enjoy the good days, I say.
Take your time.
Watch the water and the sand tell its stories, like a good visitor.
Even climb high for a view.
And then go home. You are small.
To get there, head out to the dwarf stone, get lost, head back to Seydisfjordur, and take a jaunt into the hills on a whim. This will be your reward. Wear sturdy boots!
It’s one of the prettiest waterfalls in Iceland, twisting like hair, and blessed with elves.
Perhaps you can see their queen bathing below the pool? She will meet you on the banks of the Selfljót, under Ósfjall, if she wishes. Before there was sculpture made to delight the eye, which sorts information before it reaches the brain …
… there was the delight of the eye in landscape. The thinking self comes later. First, one is a body.