Jun 15, 2010 | Drangajökull, Iceland
Jun 15, 2010

For a while we had our own private glacier, just as old and cold and beautiful as any other piece of ice.

The way was long and full of rocks and rivers, and there at the end of the walk, you could see water coming down faces, and faces turning away.

At home there was no glacier, and everything had gotten green.

Horses ran above the purple river, sheep ate grass, and the lighthouse looked to the ocean for a new kind of light.