To The Sea
The snowflakes in Iceland fall like those of Japan, but unlike Japan the snow here flies horizontally past my window.
It’s hard to believe the smiling hotelier, that’s serving up a hearty soup, when she informs me it’s a national holiday today.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“Well, its the first day of Summer!”
Iceland's far north is a rugged rocky landscape of windblown and snow stacked slopes. It’s April and the sun is still high in the sky well into the night.
There’s joy to be had, but there’s also a battering from the wind. Transitions from skis back to snowboard are swift, as fingers soon freeze if exposed.
From skyline ridges, where the wind strips your eyes of all moisture, we rag it down powder fields to an ashen sea. Only to reset our skins and head back up, longing for the warmth of the climb.
