Presence

It's rare that I post a photo taken by someone else, but this image must be shared.

Everything is changing. The heart of our island is pulsing, throbs exposed for all to see, releasing a nature we've not witnessed for aeons. And we're to let our own hearts beat in time, push past the fear, find the Love we've forgotten or neglected, welcome the spirits, and dance. This is Paradise, and a most beautiful moment to be alive.


(photo of Eyjafjallajökull by Örvar Atli Þorgeirsson)

Remembrance

We bury a share of our national soul this week, and hope beyond hope there's an afterlife...

For more on the current state of our state, I'll let the Reykjavik Grapevine do the honors.

Climb

At Kaldásel, near Hafnafjörður 

I have not been to the volcano yet, so no photos of gurgling, spewing lava lighting up the still-dark spring nights at the edge of a glacier.

Instead I'll offer up something much more mundane: a brightly-painted play feature standing lonely on the 7,300 year old Búrfellshraun lava field, east of Hafnarfjörður.

Rest

As predicted, the snow has all washed away in a cold rain.

This image was taken, though, a few weeks ago before that first dusting of white noted in the last post. It's a bit of mossy lava peeking out from cold-bleached straw just south of Hafnarfjörður, but for the life of me it looks like the body of a man, resting comatose or dead, or a night troll caught out in sunlight and turned to stone on the barren landscape.

Today is voting day as Alda of The Iceland Weather Report can explain most clearly, and by the end of the day we'll see if this cold rocky figure is an accurate representation of the state of the nation's soul.

Powder

We've gotten snow, the first for 2010 and only the second dusting of this winter season. It never lasts long here in Reykjavík, and by weeks end it will surely all be gone.

For now, the pretty powder decorates our backyard nicely, and it's only a matter of adding a snowman or two to make the scene complete.

Life

Tiny moss in macro ~.~

Sunrise

Sunrise, originally uploaded by blue eyes.

It's that time of year when the sun presents full over the eastern horizon by 9 am, arctic style. That's relatively early, given that only a solstice ago it was barely peeking up over the Reykjanes range by lunchtime. Now deep winter seems miles away, and it's the new light, and the songs of hopeful birds in (though) still-leafless trees, that keep our faces turned toward a summer we know will one day come again.