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You are here: Home : Community : Travel Writers : Beauty In The Mist

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Travel Writers: Beauty in the Mist by Peter L. Scott


Location: Iceland

I remember the day we found out where we were going for our upcoming annual training. It would be in Latvia with layovers in Iceland there and back. Latvia sounded fine but I could think of many other places to have a layover other than Iceland. All that I could remember about it was that it was a cold, volcanic island in the North Atlantic. There would be nothing interesting to see or do there, of that I was sure.

 

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My unit has been very fortunate in several of our annual training assignments. We have been sent over seas several times. My first over seas experience with them was to Australia with layovers in Hawaii. Our short time in Hawaii was spent surrounded by lush green tropical forests with the vibrant colors of birds and flowers providing accents. All of these trips were at the request of ambassadors or the top brass at the Pentagon. It appeared that this year our trip would not have the same luster as years past. This year we would be at a place where the cold North Atlantic is inhaled by the clouds and constantly dispersed over the rocky island. I was not looking forward to that.

I emerged from the plane with the sun low in sky and took in my first view of this Nordic land. As I looked over the surrounding landscape, I felt that my apprehension was justly founded. The sun was fading far in the distance while all around, a blanket of cool mist completely enveloped me. Trees and bushes were seemingly non-existent. Slowly the clouds passed over the island and the sun fell below the horizon.

In the distance a faint glimmer of light was still visible but I was in a grey darkness. I was on the edge of the habitable world. Morning arrived slowly. Fingers of light from the far glow danced on the oddly calm ocean. The shimmering tempo gradually increased until they converged into a single beam. The beam slowly connected with others and then in one instant
the sun appeared and shattered the darkness, and soon all my trepidations as well. Iceland has long been known as the Land of Fire and Ice with good reason. Volcanoes erupted in the North
Atlantic creating a small island at the edge of humanity. It is in this paradox of heat and cold,
fire and ice, that a land full of unique beauty exists. It is beauty kept hidden until you can see
past the apparent barren landscape. Indeed, it is precisely because of this starkness that such beauty exists in Iceland.

Most of the landscape I saw was quite empty. A harsh, craggy tundra like surface devoid of any large vegetation. While walking around the base I noticed that there was much more grass than I originally thought. It did not always completely cover the rocky ground. Rather, it was mostly dotted throughout the terrain like polka dots on material. While I continued my meandering I came upon a small group of wildflowers. They were beautiful. Exquisite shades
of lavender, blue and yellow grouped in a tiny crevice. They were not like the acres of wildflowers I’ve seen in Alaska, it was just a small isolated community trying to survive in this harsh environment.

That is exactly what made them so beautiful. As I looked closer, I could see many more of these pockets scattered all around. Each group had found a spot that was suitable in which to grow and provide respite from the surroundings. This phenomenon is mirrored almost exactly in the way humans have chosen to live on the island. Towns and cities are not spread evenly
throughout the whole island. Rather, most are situated on the coastlines and harbor areas. Much of the land is not able to support such an endeavor on a major scale. The volcanic rock is often broken up only by glaciers that provide much needed fresh water to the coastal communities. Just as the flowers had to find suitable pockets to survive, so have humans done the same. When I saw the town of Keflivik I was pleasantly surprised. There were colors everywhere.

It reminded me of the little villages I used to build for my model train set. Most of the buildings were white with either red or green metal roofs. Interspersed throughout were houses in subtle shades of pink, yellow, or any number of other colors. It was not garish at all. I likened the white to be the intermittent grass back at the base and the colorful houses to be like the small groups of wildflowers.

The people had taken their cue from nature once again. Down on the docks men worked in colorfully painted boats. It seemed that because there wasn’t much natural color on the island, when people had the opportunity to use it, they would use as much color as they could. That way they could break up the bleakness of their surroundings. The people were friendly, yet reserved at the same time. What made this whole experience complete was the beautiful sunny
morning. All of these elements were truly enjoying and had changed my opinion of the island.

There is beauty inland as well, but sometimes it is a mental beauty, not a physical sight. It is more an experience than a reality. The Blue Lagoon is about one half hour inland from Keflivik and the scenery is much the same as that on the naval base just outside town. In fact, the closer you get to the Blue Lagoon, the terrain becomes even more rocky. All around the coal black rock jutted out at strange angles. Fog swallowed up the car. Outside, jagged rock formations drifted in and out of sight. Steam hissed from cracks in the ground. If it weren't for the chilly temperatures outside, I could have sworn we were descending into the depths of hell. Then a hint of blue appeared, a small pool of water with dark green grass all around it. Then there was another that suddenly faded back into the mist and steam. Then the mist slowly parted and there were the mystical, healing waters of the Blue Lagoon, a natural hotub.

The mineral enhanced waters are heated by magma flowing underneath. To reach the water you must first leave the indoor safety of the check-in and locker area. We scurried outside and quickly proceeded in the cold drizzle along a rubber coated walkway. Soon we arrived at the waters edge and went in. The water felt like a comfortable pair of jeans just out of the dryer on a winter morning. As I gently floated around I realized I was in a surreal, magical world. Steam from the nearby power plant mixed with that of the lagoon. Rain gently fell on the whole area creating an aura of a prehistoric experience. Druids floated in and out of sight, but they are not druids, they are other people enjoying a similar experience. There was something magical in this whole moment. It was the combination of the surroundings and the relaxed mental state that created a beautiful, unique experience.

One thing I learned in Iceland was to savor the beauty whenever and wherever I could find it. It is not a lush, tropical paradise. It is a harsh, barren environment that has small pockets of beauty. Whether it is a visual or mental beauty you must cherish it. It is because Iceland has only small pockets of beauty that makes them standout. If I wasn't able to see past the isolated landscape, I never would have found a truly beautiful land. I have since become excited whenever we have returned to this tiny island. A garden of roses is beautiful, but a rose within a stone is truly a unique and wonderful sight.

Texts © Peter L. Scott

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