Last Days

Our pack out was finished on Friday - the house stands stark empty: white walls and wooden furniture. Windows stripped of curtains flooded rooms with light, echo travels from room to room following our steps. Sudden abundance of uncluttered space is liberating and symbolic to our current state: all ends are tied, all chores are done, there is nothing but our desires to guide us through the last days here.

Today at the evening when the brooding clouds left, we went for a walk. As usual, the kids wanted to go towards the sea. As always, strolling along the shore of Hafnarfjörður and passing by the place where Herjólfsgata merges with Vesturgata we wondered why seagulls always congregated there. In a loosely circular pattern they sway on the waves there day after day, rain or shine. Sometimes they sit calmly, sometimes viciously active. There must be some undercurrent there or some invisible source of food, but we will never know for sure, it will remain our unsolved mystery.