Walking along Borgarnes’s Borgarfjordur beach there were lumps of ice that looked as if they’d fallen out of the sky, as they were so ice-so-lated (isolated) in thawing compared to what must have been other ice around them… unless they were placed there by U.F.O. aliens! Al-ice-ns? Doctor Who‘s old-fashioned greenygrey Ice Warriors?
The Ice that Fell to Earth (referencing the film of that name, swapping Ice-Man)
When I saw a lump of ice that looked quite picturesque and light enough to be moveable I thought I’d create a little ice-art, from the bottom of my cold heart, lifting it onto a rock, and having to spend a few seconds balancing it:
Okay, my ice sculpture is still at a basic level. I did write a feminist Folding Mirror poem this morning in not much more time than my ice sculpture took, after being inspired by watching the Suffragette film last night.
To finally say ‘bye ‘bye to Borgarnes on this blog, here’s a little more variety to end, in contrast to var-ice-ty, with photos of a frozen waterfall, grass sticking up through snow, and Under the Bridge, which acted as an ice-breaker as I got to know the Borgarfjordur!