Thursday, December 14, 2006
The architecturally-acclaimed town church of Vík, Iceland. (2006). If God exists, I believe He or She would choose to hang out here on Sunday afternoons.
I peered across the choppy waters of the North Atlantic to the edge of the horizon and determined, as a matter of fact, that the world was, indeed, flat.
"The world is flat," I announced, to no one in particular.
And, no one in particular talked back.
Satisfied, I sat down on the black sand, folded my arms over my knees, and rested my chin on top.
Sometimes, things are so blindingly obvious they simply can't be wrong.
Fine, black volcanic sand graces the shoreline upon which Vík, Iceland, is perched. (2006). If you waded into the water and swam due south from here, you would not reach land again until you washed ashore Antarctica. (That would be a long swim).
Posted by dingobear at 22:39