Marathon

They say somewhere around four thousand kiddies took part in last Saturday's Lazy Town marathon, all of 1.5 kilometers around our downtown lake. Along with all those tykes were a slew of mammas and pabbis and ammas and afis, jogging, walking, pushing full or empty strollers, dressed in track suits or leather jackets and heels, laughing with their kids or talking on their cell phones.

I stood mid stream taking pictures and hoping to see my Valentina run by, to no avail. Participants flowed from the starting line endlessly, or so it seemed, and I'm positive that some little ones completed their lap before others had even begun. There were quarter, half and full marathons that day for the longer legged, but this one was a joy to watch on such a beautiful summer afternoon.

Town Square

On good days (sunny that is, and warm) city folk gather at Austurvellir, a charming little grassy square right in the heart of Reykjavik. Often, of course, a bit of sunshine creates a kind of mass delusion of warmth, when in fact the thermometer barely edges up to 60°F. Those who understand this phenomena make the trek anyway, knowing they'll see a familiar face or two, but armed with sweaters and even a decent something to put between their bum and the almost always damp grass. What amazes me is that some locals seem just as surprised each time a cloud covers the precious sun, dropping temps by the tens of degrees. Regardless, it's always nice to grab a to-go latte and join the hopeful masses down at the town square.

Sjómaður

This statue is dedicated to those who've lost their lives at sea. It sits at fjord's edge in Eskifjörður, on the east coast of Iceland. The life size seaman, praying for mercy to the heavens, is a powerful reminder that this country is built on backs of men and women who strove to eke sustenance from these raw lands and from the very mercurial seas.