Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Living Stones

Last year I wrote about a thin place, a place where the barrier between worlds--of ordinary and divine, of reality and story--are permeable. My place is Helgafell, a hill in Iceland. Its name means Holy Mountain.

I'm there now, wandering about in the fog and drizzle and occasional brief patches of brightness, and looking down more often than around at the mountains for the basic reason that I'm not wearing my Wellington boots and it takes a lot of concentration to hop through the marsh and mire and along the waterline without getting my feet wet.

So, of course, I came home with wet feet. But also with a hundred photos of what I saw while attempting to pay attention to my feet.

Here are a few of my favorites.


  1. I would much rather be there enjoying the drizzle and serenity of my favorite place. I went back to work yesterday to 700 emails and am already contemplating my next trip. Thanks for making the last one even more memorable.

  2. It is amazing how tenacious plant life is in rock.