Icelandic Picnic

Last weekend, the Duck went for her very first Icelandic picnic of the year. It was such a beautiful day, after the rain cleared up, with the sun shining on the rocks that lie between the student housing and the sea, and the gentle wind rustling through the dry strands of golden grass that shoot up between them under a cloud-streaked sky, that she thought it entirely made up for the pain of missing a bus for a conference in Skálholt because despite three years of university education she is still entirely incapable of reading a clock properly.

But some things were meant to be, and some things not, and eating icy dinner on the rocks between the student housing and the sea, surrounded by shivering friends and housemates, that was.