|Me and my daughters at Vestmannaeyar|
In the Spring of 2010 Eyjafjallajökull erupted and, due to plumes of volcanic ash, caused airplanes to be grounded in 18 countries and more than 100,000 travellers affected for over a week.
And I must mention Bárðabúnga that erupted in August just three weeks after we left Iceland last year and kept belching up lava for several months. Earthquakes and tremors were not uncommon.
So, in this kind of surrealistic surroundings was I brought up...
Growing up I was fascinated by the Seagulls flying in the sky as if floating on an unseen ocean. How did the country look from way up there? How far could they see? Were they looking at me looking at them?
Following is from my memoir, Trolls - Monster Worm - Hidden People...
"Hey look, Lilla, if we put flower sack over our arms we could fly just like those gulls up there." I squinted my eyes to watch one bird standing on a large lava rock. I stomped my foot to see how he'd take off; spreading his wings wide he glided up into the air, feet tucked under his body. Gracefully swooping in a curve, he came for a landing on another rock a stone-throw away. I could see his webbed, yellow feet come down straight and watched as he hopped a bit before settling down.
"Did you see that? We can do that!" I hollered. "See? When we get on top of that shed, we'll put the sacks on our arms, spread our them out like wings and when we jump, pull up our knees and fly from one roof to the other. Come on, Lilla. Grandpa and Sisi will be here later. Let;s show them how we do this!"
I was already climbing on top of one of the sheds.
"No, no, come on down. The roof is shaking!" Lilla shrieked as small rocks began to rain down the cliff at the back of the sheds. I could feel the shed swaying and hear the clattering noise as the rocks pelted the corrugated sides. Frantically, I scrambled down yelling, "Run Lilla, run, it's an earthquake, the trölls will be coming!'' Then both of us were running oddly, like we were on the deck of a ship in a stormy gale. Reeling and weaving, we screamed hysterically "The trölls are coming, the trölls are coming!''