Sometimes an Icelander just wants to show off his modernism and hide it at the same time.
Except for elf houses. They last, too.
The old turf house is just a bright spot in the grass now. The stone in the foreground looks like it might have been placed there to ford a stream.
Have they been there?
This image is from the heath above Dettifoss.
It’s a hard one, but is it better to drive up to Dettifoss and get close to a wall of water, or park five kilometres away and walk along to goroge until you’re ready to see the falls from a new perspective?
Dunno, but when I got this far, I didn’t want to go further, and turned around, to the forest. It was hiding behind a rock and taking on human form.
It was a message. Iceland is full of messages like that.
Could this motherly nudge be why some maps call this “Whale Bay”?
Öxarfjörður in June
Black sand beaches are fun. You can watch the glaciers melt away to nothing there. This is endlessly fascinating. Most Icelandic tourism is based around twinning this melting…
… with a bit of human heat…
Perhaps now you’re ready for the Beach of Blood?
Maybe you’re ready to go north?
You won’t be alone.
If we want to end global warming, we will have to resist it and discover cold.
Some trolls are always in social isolation.
Sléttuvegur (Road 870) in the High Season
Trolls, whose eggs are green (just look!) do it like this:
Gulls, whose eggs are also green, by gosh, do it like this:
This greening of the land is a thing to be admired. I’m all for more of it.
A New, Partially-Formed Iceland Egg Greening Up Nicely in the East Fjords
They never stay long.
A Troll in Its Haunt, Kollsvík
While they’re there, they’re great fun, though.
Even in a world of (grassy) straight lines.
It’s a thing.