Joris invites me out on a drive and a hike after I happened to see him in town as I was recording bird sounds in the trees. it is a beautiful fall day, so getting out of town is an excellent idea. on the way out, we stop at the Icelandic Folk Art Museum and meet the founding Director, Niels Hafstein. the Museum is not open, but Niels gives us a short tour of the museum space, formerly a school and community center. with a handful of informative brochures and catalogs then we are off to Grenivík. then proceeding north on the Þjoþvegur to Grenivíkvegur, finally stopping the car near Nónbrík where I camped with Nick and Chris way back in 1992. the view of the fjord is spectacular as we scramble up Ausugíl or so, somewhere between Kaldbakur and Svináknjúkur — looking directly west across to Borgarbrík on the island Hrísey where I have often been with Loki and his family. in this portrait of Loki’s grandfather, Jón, that I took when we were out fishing one day, you can see the mountains on the east side of the fjord, Látraströnd, in the background. the colors today are psychedelic, the miniature willow trees, a bright yellow, the blueberry plants, a red that is not reproducible through any rational means, not to mention there were still berries to be had. as is always in clear airs here, the sunLight pierces the eye and etches all vision in the retina, almost painfully. blue-shifted, and carrying little heat. the cirque opens up at around 600 meters, but it’s no use going further because of time limits, and I’m not so well equipped for heavy hiking, with only cross-training shoes that give no support or stability for the foot. snow is not far above, and the sun, already not so high, ever, is sinking lower. so, we head back to the car, stopping for small handfuls of berries and to watch the waves and currents on the fjord. a drive up the Fnjóská past Draflastaðir and Háls to Vaglaskógur, something of a ‘real’ forest, one of the few, with birch trees reaching 12 meters in height. and back over Vaðlaheiði with a magnificent view of Akureyri and the high glacial mountains directly above the town. all the while we talk about life and art and the land.
later, when writing in the evening, something brings to mind previous lives. lived here and elsewhere. and dreams seize hold, and the bardo into sleep is crossed. full day, full life.