If you wander out of Gunnar’s house to the bottom of the lake, a pleasant 20 minute walk in the right light, you will see birds taking wing above the Hallormstadaskogur, the great National Forest of Iceland.
In any other light, they’d be the outlines of cliffs breaking out into the April sun, but on a day like this, they’re birds, for sure.
If you’re going to toss back an Einstök or a Gull, well, “Cheers, Mate!” might not do. “Skold!”, translated oh-so-lovingly, as “Skull!” will do. Oh, those viking types. They’re fooling with us.
Troll Skull at Gullfoss
Skold = skull = Schale (bowl) = skull(ing oar), ie scoop = sculpt, and so on. It is a space that fills with the energy that fills emptiness and brings forth life out of emptiness, so, to say it again, outside of trollspeak, “To Luck!”, or “Fortune be with you!” Yes, that’s right, every drink is a lottery!
Except in an early morning snowstorm in April, when you’ve been walking since 5 a.m. and the darned takeaway around the corner is closed tight, still, at. 9. What’s with that, eh! Oh, let’s ask the locals:
Imagine, becoming the volcano. You can, at Skutustaðir. You will have to become a different person, that’s all. Imagine that a pond in a mud crater on an eye-land in the sea really is an eye in the land, that you look at it with your eye, and the sea is there, looking back. If you can’t, then stop by and talk about nature and beauty.
But if you can stay, then turn around.
Then turn around again.
If you’ve done it right you’ve left your old eyes behind.