I wholeheartedly believe in the magical property of words, their incredible ability to transport readers from black and white symbols to living, breathing worlds gushing with color, shape, and texture.
There are, however, moments that are impossible to capture, impossible to reproduce. Writers can’t describe them. Photographers can’t freeze them. They’re elusive.
Even so, we continue to try.
Last week, my nine-person class, Iceland: Vikings & Sagas, traveled to Reykjavík, Iceland. We walked in the footsteps of the Vikings, swam in the Blue Lagoon, toured multiple museums, marveled at geysers, and looked up in awe at giant snow-covered mountains.
Bright sunlight illuminated sparkling white snow. Sharp winds whipped my hair and turned my ears pink, chilling me to the core. Geysers shot high into the air, producing a moving rain shower that caused tourists to scatter. Icelandic horses tölted as my classmates and I tried desperately to remain in the saddle.
I smile when I think of my experiences in Iceland and I laugh when I think of my instructor, Janis, herding all nine of us into one spot and calling us her “little Vikings.”