Think of me when you are in glorious sunshine

Well, after a thoroughly depressing weekend (weather-wise, that is - otherwise it was a great weekend), it seems that summer is finally making an appearance in Reykjavík. The weekend was wet, cold and snowy. Yes, snowy. In May. I have definitely had enough of snow for the time being. I'll probably be excited to see it back again in the winter, but sunshine now please.

Yesterday afternoon, though, the sun finally came out. This morning I saw a golden plover (Icelandic: lóa), the bird whose arrival in Iceland is supposed to signal the beginning of summer. It was pecking about on the grass down by where I was waiting for the bus, and it gladdened my heart. I read in the newspaper this morning that there was only one day in Reykjavík this April with no rain or snow. The temperature today has been a sweltering 10 - 12° c. That might sound a bit chilly to you, but you wouldn't think it from the behaviour of the good people of Reykjavík. Seriously, everyone's out in shorts and t-shirts, lounging about all over Austurvöllur with ice-creams and beer. The children are having an actual water-fight in the garden. Different standards in Iceland.

So all of you back in the UK, remember this the next time you complain about British weather. At least it has never come to the point that people will lose their minds over a 10° day. Here is a quotation from World Light by Halldór Laxness that I always think of when I am in glorious sunshine (sort of because it tells me to - it always pops into my mind).

"He continued on, on to the glacier, towards the dawn, from ridge to ridge, in deep, new-fallen snow, paying no heed to the storms that might pursue him. As a child he had stood by the seashore at Ljósavík and watched the waves soughing in and out, but now he was heading away from the sea. "Think of me when you are in glorious sunshine." Soon the sun of the day of resurrection will shine on the bright paths where she awaits her poet.
And beauty shall reign alone."

I really love that novel. I may write about my love for Laxness here soon. I have tried to before, but it always ends up as a massive ramble.