Pictures of Home, vol. 2
Strange, is it not? How one becomes blind to ones habitual surroundings. Even when their beauty is mesmerising to the unjaded eye, one is so steeped in them that they hardly registers.
So it is with myself and Iceland’s natural wonders.
Well, sort of. I am not entirely immune, fortunately. In the right frame of mind, under the right circumstances, I can be more or less as awestruck as any newcomer. Almost. Sort of. I think.
I am well aware that Iceland is pretty special. The splendid waterfalls, jaw-dropping glaciers, boiling geysers, the bizarre rock formations and surreal landscapes The decadent dance of the Northern Lights. The fascinating wildlife of weekend revelers in Reykjavík and their mating rituals. The bits that look like the Moon but with moss. I am aware of these and aware that they are all kinds of spectacular.
However, as they say, familiarity breeds contempt. Well, contempt is taking it a bit too far in this case but you take my meaning. But having grown up with this as “normal”, it is a bit lost on me.
Taking in Iceland’s nature on my own does not get me all that excited. It is a bit like looking at a person that you know is considered attractive and appreciating what makes them attractive but not being attracted to them. Yes, there is a certain quiet admiration but it does not quite inspire awe or wonder.
Add family or Icelandic friends, however, and this changes. There is something about seeing and experiencing natural beauty with someone that augments the encounter, no matter how accustomed to it you are. Your experience and that of whoever you are with come together and elevate the proceedings. It is the same as with sex; it’s so much more fun with someone.
And to take things to the max, bring in the foreigners. This has been my way of better connecting with and better appreciating the beauty of my native land, with people who are not jaded by familiarity and through them.
Like a benign Pennywise I drink in their astonishment and feast on their reveries. I revel in taking them on road trips and excursions, with their eyes ever-wide and their jaws permanently scraping the ground. They reveal to me the magic in what my eyes can see and make me see what my eyes do not; entire mountains, majestic and sublime, have been pointed out to me that I never realised where there. I piggyback on their experience and share in their amazement, awe and wonder.
It’s as close as I can get to the real thing. Sort of. Maybe. I think.
