It's Like a Time Warp Happened and the More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

Our Tjörnin

I was looking through old posts, which is very entertaining for me as I always find something I'd forgotten all about. This is one of those things. The photo is of our Tjörnin town lake, taken from the western side and looking over to Skólavörðurholt. The lovely Fríkirkjan church and the National Gallery of Iceland are there lakeside on the righthand side of the picture, and up above and to the left of the Fríkirkjan spire is Hallgrímskirkja, dressed in scaffolding and webbing for renovation.

It's not the photo, though, that interests me today, but the text. It seems so

Every Day There's a Bit More Sun to Fill Our Hearts

A view from the top of the Hill

Iceland Eyes classic: 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. 

The Bells of Hallgrímskirkja and What Adaptation May Really Be About

Hallgrímskirkja. My son sees it every day and says that, up close, it looks like a sticker against the sky. I agree.
I had a dream, or maybe it could be called vision. I like to take short meditation 'naps' to recharge. Sometimes I feel a deep need to lay down and close my eyes right now, and if I can, I do. After years of doing this, they usually end up being almost exactly 15 minutes long. I think that might have to do with the fact that I've lived within a stone's throw of Hallgrímskirkja for almost 17 years now, and worked right next door to it for 6 years, and it chimes on the quarter from 9am to 9pm, every day. So maybe I've synched with it, and know exactly...

On an Island, How Much Space Can a Person Take Up, and Who Decides?

A secret peek at back houses on Njálsgata

This is one of those lost photos recently recovered from an external hard drive. I posted it on fb the other day and it seemed to really resonate with folk, more so than the very obviously dramatic sunset photo below. Sunsets are so...obvious! 

This kind of scene though, seems to tap into that part of us that likes secret things, the hidden and the quaint. It's about the snow berries and the colors and the corrugated iron, but mostly about the central space, framed by the boughs, that seems to beckon us in. 

I remembered having seen a file named "On Space" on that same found hard drive,

Sometimes it's Like Someone Painted the Sky Just for You

Looking south on a January evening