Profound Wonder Provoked by Iceland’s Terrain
No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent,
a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less…
- John Donne, 1572-1631
- Vik, Iceland
This image was taken in Vik, on the shoreline of the very southernmost point of Iceland. This is Iceland’s rainiest area and it was a typical day. As we approached the town, we pulled over to better read a sign, and the view below us recalled Brigadoon, glimpsed through patches of dewy fog drifting by. In a steep valley below, a river flowed toward an elegant white church with a graceful steeple, perched on a ridge. Fanning out below was a small, peaceful village.
Once down in the pleasant valley, we stopped for coffee at a casual restaurant on the shoreline. The clouds parted, and we decided to take a stroll on what was once named one of the world’s ten most beautiful beaches by Islands magazine. In the late afternoon sun, we crossed a field of waving purple lupines onto the black sand beach. The waters were turbulent, and foaming aquamarine waves surged and crashed. Beyond the surf, at the far end of the beach, these strangely shaped black columns reached into the sky. I later learned these rock pillars are said to be trolls trying to drag a three-masted ship to land; according to legend, when daylight broke, they turned to stone. In reality, eons of wind and water separated these “clods” from the shore.
In a 2007 survey conducted by the University of Iceland, 64% of those polled had some belief in huldufolk or hidden people, and alfar, or elves. Almost two-thirds had some belief in guardian angels, or fetches. It’s easy to see why. One of the newest land masses on the planet, the sweeping vistas here are alternately eerie, majestic, playful, and even frightening, giving rise to some of mankind’s oldest emotions. Goosebumps, gasps, giggles and even tears are among the gamut of reactions that Iceland’s landscape elicits. Within an hour’s drive, a visitor can walk on lava fields and glaciers, across black beaches and verdant fields, and under waterfalls and rainbows.
Our last stop before returning to Reykjavik was Thingvellir, a place of astonishing beauty and mind-bending geology. Thingvellir carries profound historic, political, religious and cultural significance for the Icelandic people, and is often referred to as the country’s very soul. Indeed, Thingvellir could be viewed as the equivalent of the U.S.’ Grand Canyon, Plimoth Plantation, and Capitol Hill, and more, all rolled into one. In 930 A.D., Iceland’s settlers established an assembly at Thingvellir, called the Althing. Now recognized as one of the oldest surviving parliaments in the world, it was one of the earliest governments of the people, for the people.
Thingvellir figures prominently in the country’s strong literary tradition, appearing frequently in the Icelandic sagas, written between 1100–1300, and considered the cornerstone of the nation’s civilization. Credited with inspiring authors such as Walter Scott and J.R.R. Tolkien, the sagas occupy a unique place in world literature. These epic tales are read today by young Icelanders in much the same language they were originally written in by Norse settlers. Thingvellir is still very relevant to Icelanders today–it is the site where the country declared itself an independent republic in 1944. Fifty years later, 60,000 people, about a quarter of Iceland’s population, gathered at Thingvellir to commemorate that occasion.
Thingvellir is marked with a line of deep gashes in the earth, filled with crystal clear water. My husband and I watched a young boy and his father race each other back and forth across a small footbridge over such a ravine. They gleefully shouting “Now I’m in Europe” when reaching one side, and “Now, I’m in America” on the other. A scene that would have had us scratching our heads anywhere else in the world made perfect sense in here in Iceland’s first national park. Iceland is designated as part of Europe, not of North America, though geologically the island is part of both continental plates.
Iceland’s geography and topography are physical manifestations of how connected we are, a place where, in Seinfeld’s words, “worlds collide”–literally. The resulting environment necessitates a spirit of cooperation, interdependence, and striving for the greater good. The terrain provokes profound wonder at what forces beyond ourselves might be at work in our world and beyond. This sense of awe has led to great art and literature exploring man’s nature, his relationship to others, and to nature itself.
For more pictures of Iceland, see the site’s “Travel Photos” or “Store.”
http://iceland.vefur.is/iceland_travel_info/national_parks/thingvellir.htm
http://www.thingvellir.is/english
http://www.simnet.is/gardarj/folk/alar.htm