In twenty-four hours I went from swimming in a pool, to walking on a glacier. In twenty-four hours I went from wearing a tank top and thin sweater shirt to three layers and a winter-time beanie. Within two hours I went from snapping pictures of a waterfall to that of the snow covered hills.
How is any of this possible? I found myself asking in my head as I stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets not willing to admit that I should be wearing gloves. I was just walking up hill away from a waterfall, sweating in my long sleeves, and that was even after I had removed my coat, but now? Now we are etching GENESEO into the snow as we make our way to a glacier.
We file back into the car and I rub the redness away from my face. It blew my mind how quickly the climate and landscape could change in just a little bit of time and some strips of pavement, or in our case- dirt roads. The car bumps and shakes as I stare out the window. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I have been to both coasts of the U.S. and I have unknowingly walked on inactive volcanos and lived on old glacier beds but that was nothing compared to what Iceland holds. There few places in the world that have glaciers and even fewer where volcanos sit nested near them and hot springs spill out of the same mountains. It’s almost as if nature is an artist who took their best paintings and smooshed them all together into one large canvas, somehow it fitting seamlessly.
Sitting with wet socks and muddy shoes from when the glacier water had tried to suck us down, we stop and file of out the rain streaked car, pausing to take photos of the rainbow that had appeared connecting the dirt road of the glacier to the dirt road of home. In a few moments the rainbow is gone and in awe I board back in the car imagining what the next section of nature’s masterpiece will be.