So, you have a bunch of troll bones in a stream at Skeljanes. Weird troll writing on it. How are you going to blend in with that so you look like you own the place?
Easy guys.
This next one is trying to blend in with the sea at the same time. All those waves, eh.
That’s how it’s done. And if someone says your head is as hard as a rock, ha, that would be, like, a double compliment!
They are famous, these ship-stealing trolls of South Iceland. You can see them off the point in the distance below, looking east…
…and looking west below.
But it’s the few from the north, from their lair, that shows how close they came to dragging those fishing boats in for dinner, and how alive they still are.
Never think a troll is dead. That would be a big mistake for your subconscious life, indeed.
Ever wondered if there are elves who herd sheep? No point asking the elves. They’re not talking.
Elves at Home in Helissandur
Should we ask the sheep? This guy’s at Hraunhafnartangi.
Does he look like elves are moving him from field to field? No. No point asking the trolls, who do herd sheep. Their languages are too slow.
And horses, that appear mysteriously wherever you stop, and, surely, are hanging around with elves, being out there day and night and all, and elfishly mysterious, should we ask them?
Maybe not. The horses at Eiðar below are grazing on an elf city, of all things, and what are they doing? Sneaking grass from the ditch.
I mean, the elves are definitely herding grass and purslane, such as at ValÞjofsstaðir below.
And the moss that covers the lava fields radiates elfishness.
But the elves? Such as this bunch at ? Are they herding sheep?
Oh. Yeah. They are.
But, of course, the question is, really, do they heard living sheep? That humans have to romp after to collect? Well, kind of. Even the trolls, such as this dark and light pair at Klausturhamrar, send sheep on their way to left and right.
And the elf city at Álfaborg…
… leads sheep, and people both, in quite specific ways.
Do sheep see elves and take commands from them, though? Why not. Humans do.
It’s just that these commands are not the same as walking across the grass to pasture. Elves aren’t safe like that. They lead you out of your own mind.
They can keep you on the path or lead you off it, such as at Fagurhóll, in the images above and below.
What do the sheep follow?
We might as well call it elves.
A trained eye will see trolls In Iceland by looking past the rock. A world of appearances is a world of doors. The country is a folktale. That is not a metaphor.
Some trolls, such as the one at Kirkjubærjarklaustur below, are less retiring, but look more closely. More trolls appear the longer you look.
Here too, to the east, along the South Coast.
And farther to the east. Here you can clearly see the bones from a previous troll meal, that have been tossed below them. Folklore holds that when the sun comes up, trolls are turned into stone. No, that’s not it. They are still there, behind the appearances, which is to say, in the darkness, behind the light.
And yes, trolls keep troll sheep, such as the one below at Dimmuborgir.
The one below at Skriðuklaustur may not appear to do so at first …
… but do turn around. Ah, there they are.
Here’s one at Litlafoss, carrying a sheep on its back.
Are these really “trolls” and “troll sheep”? Well, are the meanings of these words really “things”? We live in a world of appearances, and use language to navigate between them, but the appearances are separate from the language.
To date, there is no other language for these appearances, such as here at Stekkalækur:
And calling this view of the troll environment at Litlafoss geology doesn’t help much, except to produce awe, which is to say, to drive you away, when you might need to learn how to get close.
Truth is, volcanic rock breaks in patterns that matches the patterning of the human mind. This is our environment. The alternative would be to call the appearances an error, which is just too tidy and elitist.
Behaviour like that is enough to make you imagine cartoon trolls …
… above a waterfall full of real ones.
Fossatún
That is a betrayal of the appearances. It makes the world safe. It isn’t.
Stekkalækur
If not honoured, trolls prey on us.
The manly trolls of Gulfoss…
… and the worms (um, gold collecting dragons, you know the type) of Gulfoss…
… the Golden Falls … 
… look across to the female trolls across the gorge, which are riding a worm…
.. and if the worm has the head of a ram, well, this is Iceland, after all.
And the flag … this flag:
… flies between them.
So now you know, too.
Here’s an ancient troll in Dimmuborgir, keeping an eye on those flighty humans.
And a modern one in Víðimýri, doing the same good work.
Thanks guys, for the hand.
Even the trolls did it.
Some good head action by the troll team at Þingvellir.
Nicely blocked by Team Iceland!
