Well, rock. Drift rock.
In the glacial outwash floods that overwhelmed Kirkjubær, it is a thing. If it wasn’t for little tufts of moss clinging to the roots of grass, the whole Island might have washed away by now.
Moss eats rock.
Sheep hooves cut moss.
That’s right, look the other way.
The National Geographic will tell you that Iceland looks like this. Kirkjufoss, they call it.
You will be astonished how much trespassing you have to do to get a shot from that angle. In truth, though, Iceland looks like this:
We call that moss. Those little silver plants there? That’s a forest. Please, stay on the trail. Beauty becomes photography, taken from awkward angles, with weird blurring things going on, if you don’t.
At settlement, Iceland was 55% Irish.
Fly fishers begin by observing insects along a stream. Their art follows.
Knitters are just as attentive to the natural world. Here, in a surf of lava cinders, new sweaters begin.
People follow the warmth of this care home.