Pattern, volume, mass, surface, light, line and shade. These expressions make up art. They are also representations of the human body.
(Home of ravens, too.)
Which is a creation of the earth’s body. Iceland feels like home because it is: whether on the veldt of Africa, the steppes of Asia, the prairies of North America or the glaciers of Europe, Asia and Canada, these basic forms, of our bodies laid out for us to walk through under the sky, are our oldest map. Wherever we are going, we are already there.
So, here it is, Gulfoss, translated as “Golden Falls.”
The water, as you can see from its colour, comes from the glacier. No gold there.
And the gold? Well, at settlement 55% of Icelanders were Irish women dragged along against their will and making the most of it. I suspect a leprechaun or two came along, because leprechauns like to hide a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, and, well…
You are virtually promised to see a rainbow at Gulfoss. Don’t try for the pot of gold, though. It’s dangerous down there where the river disappears into the earth. Fairyland, they call that.
Maybe a trip to the glacier? Much safer.
And what is a glacier? Why, just look at it: white gold, of course.