Four Weeks Until Iceland

Four weeks.

That's how long my human has left before she gets on a plane to Iceland.

She's going to Hólar. Landsmót. The biggest gathering of Icelandic horses on earth. Held every four years. In a country smaller than Kentucky. Built around horses smaller than your assumptions.

Before that, five days on horseback through Borgarfjörður. Where my bloodline comes from. Where my gait, my bones, and my do-not-test-me eye came from.

She's been pacing. She's been packing the same bag three times. She's been telling me about it like I haven't been listening for a year.

I have been listening.

I told her, the trail in Iceland doesn't care about your itinerary. Get on the horse. Look around. Stop crying.

She'll send pictures.

— Glytja