Saturday, old long light, we keep driving.

We saw these three horses at the edge of their pasture, right by the road, so we pulled onto the shoulder and got out.

Icelandic horses are rather special.

They were all over the countryside, and usually with no farm in sight, the way cows are in parts of California. All shaggy with their winter coats.



The sun would stand that way for ages. The light was like this, like the sun was either just beginning to rise or just finishing setting, for most of the time that there was any.

The wind builds up in the afternoon until the sun goes down, then it gets stiller.

E. driving.


Once we were out of Reykjavík and away from the three stops of the Golden Circle [Þingvellir, Haukadalur, and Gullfoss], the road was generally empty of other cars.