Thursday, September 29, 2011
Another Postcard-y Shot from Iceland
Imagine being there, being right there, standing on that overlook, enjoying that view. Imagine being there instead of being trapped behind a desk doing paperwork, signing model releases, or doing whatever it is that you do. Maybe you're an accountant and you add up credits and debits all day long? Maybe you're a doctor, a layer, a baker, a whatever. Imagine leaving your life, your "normal" regular, simple life, being transported to Iceland for just a little bit, and seeing a view like this. It's sort of unreal, isn't it? I mean, Iceland is almost like going to another planet in some ways. The scenery is so *different* it's just so pretty and it's not like what you're used to seeing.
To get away like that, even if it's only for a few seconds, even if it's only in your mind, that, my friends, that is why I posed this image for you to see here today. It's a break, it's just a break from all that we do.
And, if you don't believe me. If you don't see anything special, magical, or "different" in it, I'd urge you to look closer.
Spot the waterfall?
Yeah, there's more than one in this image. There's probably something like seventeen. All buried up in that hill, on that scenic overlook. Seriously. Waterfalls. Hidden waterfalls? Yes, hidden waterfalls (well, "hidden" in plain view.)
Somebody told me on my travels that, in Iceland, there are more waterfalls than people. There are more places where water flows freely over rock than there are people to enjoy them, to look at them, to clutter them up the way we humans always do. That seems like a meaningless statistic in some ways but, in a way, it's amazing to me. More waterfalls than people. Really? I mean, that's a lot of waterfalls, yes, but it also implies that somewhere, sitting quietly, going unnoticed, right now as I type this, there is a waterfall in Iceland that doesn't have a person "affiliated" with it. It's just water, quietly flowing freely over rock. Now, don't you wish you could just go out and catch *that one* now that I've told you about it? I so want to see *that* one, that quiet previously under enjoyed waterfall right now, don't you?
If that thought doesn't take you away then, I'm afraid, maybe you really do belong chained to a desk. (Don't take it, you know, personally or anything. The world needs accountants too, I'd guess.)
Until next time...