You can go visit the elves in Borgarfjörður Estri, if you like.
Off to Álfaborg with you!
You can read all the magical traditions about this rock here: The Alfaborg Story.
Still, it would do your mind well to forget all that and go walking among the stone heads in the rain.
You will find magic enough as the fog rolls in.
As the contours of the land turn to air and water, you will begin to feel like rain yourself.
Every stone takes on great significance as the sky vanishes.
And that’s the point. The fjords south of here have been abandoned. The weather is just too terrible. You are alone with rock. There is no sky, only earth that has become it, and maybe a homestead you can scratch together out of mud.
The stones, though, are a kind of sight. You see them because out of this dissolving world, they stand out. Birds use them to see. They are, in face, eyes, or islands of sight in the rain.
They are shelter. Whether they are rising from the earth or sinking into it, is not the point, because both are true at once.
On Álfaborg, one sees in at the same time one sees out. It is you who becomes the person of the stone, as you gain its vision, and see with more-than-human eyes.
Don’t even try to come home.