Tag Archives: Iceland

What Every Icelandic Sheep Could Tell You

I’ve been thinking about walls. What are they for? For shelter, yes, and seemingly to keep sheep in, or out, but into or out of what? I mean, look at the pastures under the Snaefells Glacier.

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There’s precious little for sheep in the neighbouring pastures below, and any shepherd is likely to break a leg stomping after sheep in this stuff, and why? There’s as little grass on one side as on the other.dritvikwall

Assuming that in the past Icelandic farmers were as sensible and economical with their energy as any others, might there be a reasonable, but lost explanation? Could the walls be to direct sheep, not to make pasture but so that they herded themselves, a kind of large sheep fold, like the one at the edge of the lava (below)?

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Driftwood helps. Is drifting the principle here? To reap the benefits of summer labour in the winter, when labour is just too exposed on the open earth?

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Or is it to direct the snow, to bare some slopes for sheep and to bury others with snowdrifts, to provide fresh water in the spring and early summer? It could be. I don’t know.

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It wasn’t a fence to guide human walkers in the fog and the dark. Cairns were used for that.

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Might it have been to separate the fields by the shore from the fields by the mountain…

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… to keep sheep from drifting away from survival food, winter’s seaweed…

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Sheep Pasture at Dritvik

…into perilous holes in the lava?

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Is it, in other words, about thinking with the land? Is this the wealth that Gunnar Gunnarsson said was at the heart of poverty? Is this an extension of the principle “when you run out of hay anything is hay, anything at all” to land itself, on the lines of “when you run out of pasture anything is pasture,” even if it is only an extension of the poverty of one man over another? Could this be love of land?

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In a country in which only a landowner could wed and have children, the impetus to own any kind of land, in any kind of poverty whatsoever, must have been intense. Is that what we’re looking at here? Love?

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The stubbornness not to disappear of a people from whom the benefits of community were continually removed, often by foreign traders?

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Is drift a way of holding on by bending the way a path goes? I don’t know. Is it still going on?

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Is this the principle of drift? Are some fences made of the mind and duty?p1330714

Is this how 1,500,000 tourists are safely guided through the cold every year by a few hundred front line Icelanders?

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I bet the sheep know.

 

Reading Iceland

Here are some poems that the land wrote.
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The land reads them, too.
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Even the sun reads them.

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It helps with the writing as well.

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It is best to consider reading and writing as the same act.

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They happen simultaneously.

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You have the capacity to read along.

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You could call it a map, if you like, for a voyage.p1320732

There and back again.
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Jökulsárlón

Now for a novel.

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Being At Home on Earth

Just a few metres away from a ruined farmhouse.p1310488

…some people cross the line to make images of themselves…
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… or of nature…

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… but not of how to live in it…

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… not of how to be home, or of how that continues when you leave.

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Or of what it means to stay.

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The earth is a social space.

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Human society is something different.

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Nature becomes a space of disobedience. This is called freedom.

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Isn’t it time to go home to the earth?

p1320175When you live there, there is no nature.p1320264There is a different freedom.p1320246

Obedience.

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Not everyone can leave for the city.

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Living With the Volcano

Some farms in Iceland are in the most marginal patches of grass in the midst of lava fields. Here’s Thor’s Shield, the mother of all shield volcanoes, at the peak of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where it crashes into land underfoot. There’s a little bit of grass here in Thingveillir, but not much.p1400536

Lots of wind, though, which makes it a great place to take some of that grass and build a house.

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Sandgerði

Beautiful, isn’t it. Every farm in the country has ruins of turf houses like this. That’s the thing about Icelandic views: it’s the fact that people live on this land that makes it beautiful. The hard work of warming the land has been done. After all, the story here is one of settlement, not of conquest.

Playing Chess with Water in Stykkishólmur

In Breiðafjörður, the wide fjord of West Iceland, people know a lot about water.p1360548

They live with it.

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One can presume water knows a lot about people, too.

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In Stykkishólmur, halfway to the far west, where land ends, people know about harbour, where land and water and people mix and voyages begin.

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On the hill above the harbour there is an old library.

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From it, you can read people reading the water and read the water writing the world.

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You can also play chess.

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This is the Library of Water.

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Water from Iceland’s glaciers is here to be read.

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To reveal itself.

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Shelved with the shelves of the world.

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Among houses for water.

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And houses for people.

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Water reveals itself here.

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People come to be written by it.

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And to see their world with new eyes.

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They come to see with the eyes of water.

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And to play a little chess.

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Your move.

 

So, You Want to Start a War, Eh?

Think again. This is a nature preserve in the Whale Fjord in West iceland.p1400403 It is also one of the runways of the fighter base that protected the Allied Fleet during the Battle of the Atlantic during the early 1940s. Here’s another view. Back then, this fjord would have been filled with ships, protected by fighter cover and a submarine net across the mouth of the fjord.p1400402 This is the naval base today.p1400400

Iceland has, wisely, left this history almost unacknowledged, and has given this land to the birds. We can honour that forever. We don’t have to stop honouring that wisdom any time soon.