Early in the morning, end of February ’06, dawn appears in an intensely plurality of colours above the sea at the coast of South- Iceland.
I found accommodation in a comfortable guesthouse on an icelandic sheepfarm, yesterday.
In the evening I talked to the old peasant woman about the drastic climate changes (the animals are out at feed already, otherwise not until March; there wasn’t really any snow this winter)- but now I fast drive on the short distance to the glacier lagoon Jökulsárlón.
The strong clouds in the sky are sanguineous illuminated by the not yet rised sun … and there already appears the yellow ball at the horizon- and just now, on my arrival, the first warm light falls on the snow covered mountains. Meter by meter it captures the glacial lake brimmed with icebergs.
Here, in the South of Iceland, is located the Vatnajökull, the biggest glacier in Iceland, almost 10x bigger than the biggest glacier on the European continent. 100 years ago one of its glacier tongues, the 18 km wide Breidamerkurjökull, nearly extended till the ocean, but since then it continuous retrieved and now calves at the boarder of the burst into the arised glacier lagoon. Iceland’s shortest river, the Jökulsa with only 250 m length, conjoins it with the ocean.
In the meantime the sun disappered behind the tight clouds and I use the morning for walking along the moraine at the lakeshore. A cold wind, coming across from the glacier, blows, and there are drifting pieces of ice on the water everywhere, of all sizes, of all forms. You can always hear snaps of contacting or breaking apart pieces, at the same time the oxygen, unleashed by smelting, bubbles on the surface.
There is ice with black stripes, rests of volcanic ashes or of the abrasion of the moving glacier masses over the stones. The ice, always introduced into a process of changes, shows itself in many- sided shapes, that inspire the imagination.
About noon the sun stands up to the clouds again, in the background the Breidamerkurjökull is gleaming and a few steps from here the icebergs are reflecting on the silent water. Its twinkling everywhere in various tones of blue and grey.
Not only on the water, also next to the shore are lying many little pieces of ice, partly crystal- clear, nerved pretty. The age of this ice averages between a few and over 1000 years, and that’s why it’s a very special emotion touching a piece like that and feeling the span of life passes by in the imagination.
In the early afternoon the impressions of clouds , mountains, stones, the sun, light, water, ice, forms and colours became that strong that everything was in the verge of getting lost in this unseizable overstrungness.
…but the light, getting warmer in the afternoon, leads to tranquillisation and clarification of the visuell impressions.
Single pieces of ice, shining like gemstones, gently swimming on the water…
…and the day ends as colourful and effected by the sun as it started.
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