Tag Archives: Iceland

Good Days and Bad Days in East Iceland

The black sand beaches at the mouth of the Selfljót are unparalleled.

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.

Global Culture and Gunnar Gunnarsson

When faced with mysteries, like this troll on Reykjanes …

… the global human sees its emotions instead.

The Bridge Between the Continents, Reykjanes, Iceland

Some premeditation is involved. That’s what Pinterest is for.

It’s not original, but it’s a fun bit of colonization. What would Homus Globalus do, after all, if it saw the ogre climb her staircase above Gunnar’s birth house in the Lagarfljót?

Laugh, no doubt. Should we laugh about Icelanders in their own country? The question is absurd to people who would do this:

The global human loves humans and sees them as beneficial additions to all environments. Icelanders, being isolated island people, actually invited them in. This is the same bind that drove Gunnar to Denmark in 1907, to become a published writer, and then saw him ostracized in the 1930s, because he had published in Danish. There are always these double-binds. That’s the human condition. Even in Iceland. We should be gentle on ourselves.

Njardvik: the Green Fjord

The road along the coast behind the farm Borg races on past the Cross on the cape that keeps the ogre at bay, on to the puffins in Borgarfjörður Eystri, and back.

Few stop anymore to walk in this emerald, or to see the path this water makes as it hides itself, as all creatures from the other world do, on to test the walls of the houses of men. It is the greenest fjord in Iceland. This image is made from the old Stapavik trail, the right way to come upon it, unless you come by boat, of course. Imagine the first long boat that touched this beach, and the people that stepped ashore in wonder. They are your ancestors as soon as you get out of the car. And then what? Well, friend, then you are lost. And then you are found.