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Our house is whistling. It sounds like the wind will yank it up from the foundation and pitch it across the fjord. Someone told me that today the winds reached sixty miles an hour. After our very long winter, I … Continue reading
Spotted on the streets of Reykjavik: *a tall blonde in a long black cape *a leggy lady in leather pants *a teen in hot pink tights with a short red, green, & blue striped dress *a mother in a black … Continue reading
Lots of coffee and time with the happy light needed today–it’s back to howling wind and blizzard-like conditions after yesterday’s beautiful sun.
First was the smell of the sea and the snow then a sighting of swans on my midday walk in the land of perpetual twilight.
I spent December talking about trolls: the one with the big nose that sniffs doorways, the peeping tom troll, the one with an unusually long tongue that licks empty bowls, or the sly one that steals Skyr (yogurt). Staying in … Continue reading
My days are dark. In Reykjavik, the world’s northernmost capital, we move from one black space to another. Snow falls, hail is intermittent, wind howls, clouds part and soar, sometimes there is rain, and always there is the absence of light. … Continue reading
Snow dusts the top of the great mountain and the wind howls something fierce. Air whistles and screams through the chimney as the gusts blow sheets of rain. Waves of water move sideways in the grey world outside. Grateful to … Continue reading
First I notice the earth—black boulders and small rough pebbles, volcanoes, a conical mountain, and the enormous expanse of tall, brown barren land that lays slumbering across the bay. In Iceland, the land rises and falls sharply, exposing tectonic plates, … Continue reading