This is our first winter in our beautiful home state Colorado. Rather than traveling somewhere warm or abroad, we dedicated this winter to learning and playing in the snow. The vibe of a ski mountain town is so relaxed and we’re so grateful for this experience. Stepping out into the frosted air each morning makes us giddy and excited for each day.
My soul seeks asylum, my mind clarity.
Before this great big temple of ice.
In its presence eye am shown
My past, present and future.
Eye am shown, the beauty, the divine, the inevitability of dwindle and decay.
That nothing gold can stay.
Iceland has an incredible wealth of beauty tucked behind every mountain, fjord, and lava field. It is impossible to see everything in one day, and unreasonable to try. Making the most of our Icelandic Adventure Honeymoon, Tyema and I continue to rack up the miles, venturing further and further from our cabin on the Skorradsalvatn every chance we get. This way and that, back and forth across the country, once, twice and over again. Scouting out our next move we decided to take the long drive north to explore more remote areas and experience the Icelandic capital of the north, Akureyri.
Within an hours drive we began to climb up and into the highlands. Light rain turned to sleet then snow. We watched the temperature steadily drop and the windows start to fog. Traffic became less frequent, speed cameras few and far between. Seemingly endless expanses of farmland, fat balls of wool dotting the landscape. And then unexpectedly we begin to climb again in between the narrow gauge valleys of breathtaking mountains. Thicker snow blanketing rolling and jagged peaks. Series of crystal blue waterfalls gushing in abundance.
The enchantment of Iceland grew tremendously as our days progressed and we traveled further from our home base in Borgarnes. This next section of our Icelandic Adventure Honeymoon will focus entirely on the South, a section of Iceland that most will be more familiar with, due to its relative close proximity to Reykjavík. Of this area there are incredibly dramatic changes in the landscape that are unparalleled to any other place in the world. From our cabin, again we begin by looking out to the Northeast at Langjökull, the second largest glacier in Iceland. We have followed the Hvítá River West, down into Borgarfjörður, but now it is time to follow its main arterial vain South along the Golden Circle and down to the North Atlantic.
Langjökull is undeniably the main contributing factor to the wondrous sights of the Golden Circle. Gullfoss, Iceland’s most notable waterfall in the Southern region, would not be possible without the continual melt from the glacier. It is a beacon of an ever-changing environment; it is a reminder of the causal effect of man in Nature and the inevitability of its fate. The sheer magnitude of this waterfall, cascading in two stages equivalent of 105 feet, was so great that we felt fixed, frozen in time while staring out at its majestic beauty. The roar of the water deafening. Eyes glazed, jackets drenched with mist. Pushing through the throngs of people glued behind cellphone and camera lights to get a more apt vantage.
Home is among the towering pines, jagged, snow-capped mountains and sulphur plumes of geothermic activity. I feel at home in the land of fire and ice. The common expression of a tree-less, leafless, barren expanse is thwarted every day as I look out our dining room windows. Towering conifers border the cabin, shrouded in the early morning dew, wet and dripping onto volcanic soil. The birch like wildfire, red berries clinging to dormant branches, growing in clusters from the porch to the Skorradalsvatn. We nestle here for a month, embracing our love as we embrace this intensely dynamic country. This cabin has been our solace in between long and unending drives. 5000 kilometers in two weeks time and we have yet to see a fraction of this magnificent place. Still, in all the beauty we have seen thus far, West Iceland has a special place in my heart.
Located fifteen minutes southeast of Borgarnes, on the northern lowlands of the Skarðsheiði mountain range we plan our days with excitement and adoration of this majestic land. We start slow, right in our front yard and expand outward as our days progress. Trying to understand the mountains, follow the rivers and waterways that lead to Borgarfjörður and Þingvallavtn, we trace the landscape out to Langjökull, the second largest glacier in Iceland that straddle the Western and Southern region. We took the drive up 550 and then turned onto the pothole-riddled, snow patched 551 road toward the base camp. As we steadily navigated the road, grinding misjudged gears, the wind rolled off of the icecap, gusts tearing through the warmth of our jackets. Snow, thrust across the sun drenched sky, sent rainbows swirling about, dancing around the mountains.
A sensuous, exotic dance thrust across every corner of the star stained sky. Silent whispers in the wind, inaudible, beckoning the brave. The cold slipped like a silk nightgown; enchanted eyes glistening upward. An electric night, we too charged and excited. Oxygen swirling above, green and red photons pouring down in a flood all around us. We stood at the edges of the Skorradalsvatn, the lapping water reflecting rays in immeasurable degrees. The shimmering lake snaking from the east, spilling out and over the dam crest, carving the landscape down into Borgarfjörður, and then into the Greenland Sea. The Aurora floating along its’ winding course as all things connect in every dimension.
