I woke up at 7:00 and thought about getting up early to watch dawn break from the east edge of town. The metaphor of light coming in from Europe and washing over this lovely place while on its way to America and points west appealed to me.
But being warm under the cover appealed to me, too.
And before I knew it it was after 8 and light out. Marty (the plush moose) was mocking me from the window.
I really want to watch the dawn, though. Maybe I’ll force myself to do that tomorrow.
I did go back to the east edge of town and take some panorama and ultra wide photos, trying to get a sense of the scope of the fjord. (I realize trying to get a sense of the fjord may be something that’s ultimately impossible, but I won’t let that stop me from trying.)
Here are a few of the panos from this morning:
Then I came up to the Fish Factory and the sun had come out. It was actually too sunny for a while in the room I’ve been working in that has the big windows and the great view.
So I went downstairs to the main studio room, worked for a few hours, then headed back up. With the sun safely behind the mountains on the other side of the fjord, I was able to finish the tenth story I’ve written here in ten days.
From the upstairs window looking out on the fjord, I spotted a fishing boat coming in from a day’s work. Hope they had as good a day as I did.
I set a very ambitious schedule for myself, but so far I seem to be meeting all my internal deadlines.
Also, doesn’t the Fish Factory look cool at night?
9 people. One van. One hour to Egilstaddir where one woman was dropping a few sculptures at a gallery and someone else was heading to the airport to meet her boyfriend.
I took a walk in the morning, did some more work, and then we spent basically four hours going shopping and coming back.
Fun fact: the sky cleared up as soon as we got through the tunnel and onto the other side of the mountains. Every other part of Iceland has had clear skies and amazing Aurora displays except the part of the Eastfjords where I am. And of course, as soon as we came out of the tunnel on the way back the weather was rainy and cloudy again.
Hoping the weather clears up over the weekend so we can get some good Aurora action.
In the evening, I wrote another story. That’s nine in nine days. (Nine first drafts, anyway.)
It seems like riding in a van for hours shouldn’t be exhausting, but it kind of is. Oh well.
Today was a day of catching up on a little work I had to do from L.A.
So after a brief hike (no photos for some reason), I settled in upstairs and got to work.
Then, I wrote another new story (that’s eight in eight days).
I did make the mistake of telling one of my housemates about this boat. The local fishermen will often give locals a fish, so she got a fish and cooked it last night.
The entire place smelled like fish.
I may have burned a candle to clear out the smell.
Did I mention that I have an almost cellular aversion to fish? Because I do.
And yet, here I am at the Fish Factory. Go figure.
I took a nice long walk in the morning, this time going west.
After the misadventure with the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone yesterday, I’m waiting fora very low wind day before I try again. The good news is we’re supposed to have some clear skies this weekend. So I’m hopeful for some good drone weather and some Northern Lights.
Since I’ve been here, we’ve had pretty much 100% cloud cover and rain/sleet/snow the entire time.
Anyway, I took a walk north because even though it was cloudy and windy, there was a brief period of only light drizzle.
Then it was back to the Fish Factory, where I wrote another original story (that’s seven in seven days for those of you keeping track at home).
It was sleeting slightly (which is much better than rain in my book) and seemed calm, so I thought it was perfect weather to take the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone up.
A few words on Sitka P. Coldfoot. He was the soul kitten. My wife Amy and I had disagreed about what kind of pet to get. I was always a dog person and she hated dogs and was a cat person. So for many years, we didn’t get a pet. Until finally, we compromised — and she got her way.
In exchange for me agreeing to get a cat, I got to choose which cat to get. We’d gone to the local shelter and were interested in a black cat, but we were told to come back two days later. When we did, we learned the black cat had behavioral problems. So instead, we looked at a tiny, adorable tuxedo cat. He was so small he could fit in the palm of my hand. And he was so goofy that he was doing somersaults in the little cage. But when I held him, he looked up at me, sighed contentedly, and fell asleep.
To say I fell in love with him in that moment is a huge understatement. But look at that face! How could you not fall in love with him?
He was incredibly smart and incredibly sweet (and eventually grew into his ears). He used to do the most amazing, acrobatic jumps playing with his “bird” toy (a wand with a feather at the end). People didn’t believe how high he’d jump, so we made this video:
He was devoted to us and the absolute sweetest and best boy you could imagine.
We lost him far too early, but we had a great ten and a half years with him. It’s not an exaggeration to say he inspired me and Amy and that we both still miss him every day.
The lock screen on my computer is still this photo of him and it makes me happy every time the computer boots up to see him:
So when I decided to come to Iceland and bring a drone, we decided to name it the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone so that I could be reminded of him and introduce others to him.
And today, I thought, it was perfect drone-flying weather. When I left the house there was almost no wind. I hiked out to the edge of town, past the campground and the Evergreens to this patch of land where there was not much around except for tussocks, wild grass, and some streams coming down from the mountain.
As I got farther away from town, the wind picked up. It really seemed like it was too windy to fly the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone. But I’d come all that way and I thought maybe I could get a quick flight in and film the waterfall.
I’d taken the following video from my phone, so I figured it would look even more fantastic to get video of it from the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone:
I’ll let me tell you most of the story… along with some footage.
Here’s the part I didn’t mention above. I had the video of the flight on my phone. And watching it, I realized I was flying in a field where plants grew 1-2 feet tall and where there were almost no distinguishing landmarks. So the footage didn’t give me much of a clue as to where the crash occurred. I walked up and down, getting wetter and wetter, not making any progress.
I was pretty much ready to give up.
I was thinking about how stupid it felt to buy a drone, bring it to Iceland, and then lose it.
And I was thinking about how when the drone went up three or four feet, it was seriously being knocked around by the wind.
I was thinking about how majestic the drone looked in the air and how stupid I felt when I realized I couldn’t control it or get it to come back to where I was. (Even the automatic “return home” feature wasn’t working.)
So, wandering around in that field, I remembered that this was no ordinary drone. This was the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone.
And even though I felt silly doing this, I started calling Sitka’s name. I remembered why I’d wanted to name the drone after Sitka. And I called for him.
I’m not going to tell you I heard meowing or heard voices telling me where to go. But I did get a very clear sense of where I should go. I followed that sense, carefully scanning the area.
And in about two minutes, I found the little drone (which, like Sitka when we first met him) basically fits into the palm of my hand.
I brought the drone back to the house. Carefully cleaned and dried it, and put it away.
I don’t pretend to know what happens to anyone (felines or humans) after they die. But something outside of me led me to where the drone was. And I’m so happy we named it after Sitka.
Also, I’ve learned my lesson about flying the drone when there’s too much wind. And maybe I’ll just stick to the big field by the house, where I can definitely see it no matter where it might land.
After that morning, the afternoon was relatively uneventful. I got a lot of writing done at the Fish Factory and am on track to complete on original story every day for the 30 days that I’m here.
Also, if you’re interested in supporting me and like what you see… I have a Patreon where I’m also posting a lot of content (including photos taken every morning at 9:30 a.m. from the same two windows of the house where I’m staying). It’s free to follow and cheap to support (with various tiers that have their own rewards). Check it out here. Drafts of some of the pieces I’m working on here will be up on Patreon soon.
Long, long hike, all the way out past the edge of town.
There’s a campground there and a little meadow surrounded by Evergreens. And not just tiny Evergreens, but big ones more than 20 feet tall.
Some gorgeous views on the way back as well. It occurs to me that all my hikes in the morning have been in this direction. I’ll have to do something about that in the next few days.
On the way back, a rock gave me an important lesson (no, not the “Eat Skyr” rock, although that’s arguably important as well.
I’m trying, rock. I’m trying.
At the Fish Factory, I wrote another story (fifth in five days) while staring out the window at the fjord. At one point a boat came by, which was pretty unexpected. I waved to the little boat, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t see me.
There is still a bit of a fish industry here and we were told that one of the fishermen would give you a fish if you were on the docks when they came in. So one of my housemates got a fish and they gutted and cooked it last night. The entire house smelled of fish (which is a bit torturous for me), but they seemed to enjoy it.
While they were fishing it up, I was up at the Fish Factory (and yes, I get it, it’s ironic that someone who hates fish as much as I do would choose to do a residency at a place called the Fish Factory) in the kitchen/lounge area, where there is no fish, but great WiFi. I was doing my Sunday night writers workshop, which I’ve been running every week (with very few exceptions) for the past three and a half years. As great as it is to be here (and it’s really, really great), it was wonderful to see these great writers and wonderful people that I have spent most of the last 175 Sundays with.
My Aurora Apps were pinging off the charts at me to tell me there was a wonderful display of the Northern Lights just above us. The only problem was it was pouring and we had 100% cloud cover so we couldn’t see anything up there. Hoping for a break in the weather in the next few days… but the weather seems to change so much and so quickly that you really never know.
Meanwhile, I’m keeping my nose to the grindstone and working.
More later, but please enjoy this Icelandic Moment of Zen. (If you follow me on Facebook, you may have already seen this there.)
And when you are bothered and stressed, remember that there are places like this in the world. Sometimes with all the stresses of modern life, all we really need is to remember to breathe. So too do the waves move in and out from the shore, retreating only to gather strength and come back in again. Often, when we concentrate on something natural, we can slow our own breathing and restore our sense of calm and balance.
And even if you’re not in front of something like this in person, you can always return to a place like this (or a similar place that calms you) in your mind. Whenever you’d like.
The first Icelandic Flight of the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone is a success.
It took a couple of times to get the drone airborne due to some connectivity issues, but I had a brief window where it wasn’t raining and decided to make the most of it.
Here’s the liftoff:
Sitka would be proud!
For much of the morning, the sun was trying to break through and put a stop to the rain, but without a ton of success. The good news is that even when it’s pouring, it’s still pretty gorgeous here.
Inside the Fish Factory, I went to my favorite room upstairs that has a view of the fjord. The sun was peaking through and it was gorgeous:
Looks kind of like something magical, doesn’t it?
I taped a couple of videos for various things this morning that I’ll be shaping into a few different things and will share them soon.
Meanwhile, I’ve written four new stories in four days. My goal for this month is 20-30 original stories, which is about one per day… so I’m on track with that. (Eventually the stories will come out as a book, but that’s a ways down the road).
After I got home, I kept getting alerts from an Aurora app that there were Northern Lights happening. The only problem is that we’ve basically had 100% cloud cover every night since I’ve been here, so even if there are lights above, we’ll won’t see them as long as the entire sky is basically covered in clouds.
I did put on my boots and jacket and go outside at one point, but since I couldn’t even see the stars or the moon, there were no Northern Lights for me. It should clear up next week, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that. The picture above is light reflected in the falling rain (which I kind of like even though it’s not the Aurora).
Another long hike, this one up to a waterfall in the hills above town.
I got to where I could see the waterfall, but there was a wide stream that stopped me from getting there.
Here are a few photos from the hike:
I took the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone with me, but it was too rainy and windy to fly. Hopefully tomorrow.
During the hike, I worked out the general outline of the story I wanted to write yesterday, so I went down to the Fish Factory building and spent a few hours writing it. At first, I was in the general room where most of the artists work, but after the amazing things I’d seen in the morning, not having a few frustrated me.
Then I remembered my favorite room in the building, which has several huge windows that look out onto the fjord.
So… I went up there.
I set up a chair and my laptop so I could look out on the fjord.
And I finished that story, which was directly inspired by the hike — and particularly the determination to keep going, step by step, at least until the stream stopped me. (For those of you scoring at home, that’s the third story in three days, which is basically the pace I’m hoping to keep up.)
By the way, here’s the actual view from when I was sitting in that chair:
Hoping there might be a bit of a break in the rain tomorrow morning so I can fly the Sitka P. Coldfoot Memorial Drone.
Making lists of things to write and topics to concentrate on.
Not many pictures because I spent a lot of time indoors.
Had our orientation at the Fish Factory building and went over what we thought we’d be working on.
Our group includes someone doing woodwork, someone doing shadow puppetry, someone doing an art book, and someone who wasn’t quite sure what she’d be working on (possibly music and/or performance art).
My focus has widened a little and I know it’s now going to include elements of mythology and a focus on water.
There is water everywhere here. So much that it’s easy to forget about. First there’s the fact that we’re on an island on a fjord. Then there’s the streams and waterfalls everywhere and the rain that causes the water to come down from the hills in sometimes fierce streams.
I often find myself missing the real weather, so I think I’m going to get a ton of it when I’m here.
Unfortunately, it’s just above freezing so all the precipitation is coming down as rain. A couple degrees cooler (hopefully next week) and this all turns to snow, which will make getting around both harder and easier.
I’m doing some cool things over on the Echoes of Iceland Patreon page (also: hey, I have a Patreon, which you can follow for free and support if you have some spare $$ and get some cool rewards), including the 9:30 Photographs, photos from the same two windows of the house we’re I’m staying, taken at 9:30 a.m. each morning. At the moment, that’s after sunrise, but it won’t be before too long. (Don’t worry, there will still be enough pre-dawn light to see things every day… but the change in the lighting should be amazing.)
Wrote the second story this afternoon and decided I’m going to try to work in a very cool (but not heated) room upstairs in the fish factory that has a fantastic view of the fjord. Hopefully tomorrow.
Wrote the 2nd of the 30 stories this evening, too. Hoping to get over the jet lag at some point in the not-too-distant future.
It’s been too rainy and too windy to take the drone up, but I’m hoping that could change in the next few days.
