Author Archives: lexitrobe

It Fell Over Me, The Landscape

Falling is a very easy thing to do in Iceland. Tumbling down mountainside scree, losing your footing during a river crossing, feet being lifted and washed away by the Ísafjörður shore. Skipping with toes across rocks in the Icelandic landscape … Continue reading

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Weeping Volcano, Hot-Plate Earth: Day 5 on the Laugavegur Trail

I awoke with one of my last first breaths in Iceland. I reached my hands towards the bunk above me, I yawned, I took another breath. I started contemplating each breath, wondering which would be the last one here in … Continue reading

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Gilded Forests, Yawning Chasms: Day 4 on the Laugavegur Trail

I woke up on a mountain. No, scratch that, a bunk bed, but close enough. The mountains visible out the window of the hut were my Siren song of the day, except I wasn’t resisting them and following them only … Continue reading

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Black Sand Wonderland: Day 3 on the Laugavegur Trail

Lake Álftavatn soaked the sky in with a giant yawn. Hikers followed suite by unzipping their sleeping bags, testing their knees, stretching their fingers out like obnoxious sun rays. Day three on the Laugavegur trail. Day three, further and further into … Continue reading

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Textured, Snow-Blind Iridescence: Day Two on the Laugavegur Trail

The first texture of the morning was the dust and water stained window out my top bunk. It had evidently rained that night, yet the mountains behind the glass showed no signs of being washed away. Here I was in … Continue reading

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Sulphur Wave, Obsidian Ocean: Day One on the Laugavegur Trail

“Brennisteinsalda” The letters linger in my head for a bit, they roll around in an Icelandic accent, but my American accent gets in the way when I speak them. “Brennisteinsalda” my Icelandic guide says between the mountains, “brennisteinn and alda,” … Continue reading

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Fjöll, Fjöll, Fjöllum og Fjalla

I somehow found a way to make up for my lack of climbing trees as a child by climbing the mountains here in Iceland. There is something deeply ethereal about the summits of them, as if you’re breaching upon the … Continue reading

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A Soft Newton’s Cradle

I watch a bird in the distance as it befriends the wind. Long, slender feathers reach up to touch the breeze, like jet clouds cutting into the sky’s periwinkle flesh. The bird whispers into the sky, the breeze dips down … Continue reading

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Ég Anda, Ég Anda, Ég Anda

I stare out of my window into a surreal white sky, knowing the mountains of Mount Esja lie just behind me, soaking in their glory and in the clouds which they so kindly wrap around themselves. This place is a … Continue reading

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Ágætis Byrjun

Playing: Ágætis Byrjun by Sigur Rós “Fjarlægur draumur fæðist…” “A distant dream is born,” And by born I mean alive, stretching out like the first golden rays of light pressing through the surface of the ocean, like the small budding … Continue reading

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