Dear Nature,

You are sublime. And I don't mean you're not quite a lime. If I remember correctly a sublime feeling comes about from seeing a sight that is quite frightening but at the same time enchanting. A couple of my classes at Appalachian State dealt with what the sublime is. I should have paid better attention. My apologies to Tim Silver and Chuck Smith, two wonderful teachers, who taught me quite a bit. Or tried their best to. Someone else I've recently learned a bit from is my Uncle Jim. While his knowledge comes from outside of a classroom and is offered free of charge I find it valuable all the same. I'm not saying I'd pay you Uncle Jim, but you'd have made a good college professor. When asked what spirituality is his reply included: "But, while we respond to physical stimuli, what we sense and our responses are non-material. We are sensing, holistically, more than our physical senses are providing." A spiritual feeling may come from a lack of our senses being able to fully tell our body what we're experiencing. This sounds frightening and enchanting.

I believe spirituality and the sublime go hand in hand. And I'm not sure I understood either before I came to Iceland. Back in Boone I of course saw wonderful things. Every day I think fondly of my mountain home and the friends I have there. But I think I became too comfortable there. It's a place I could see myself growing old. The sights became a part of the everyday. The ordinary. I expected grand vistas, smokey mountains and blue skies. Every now and then though something would catch me off guard such as Little Lost Cove or a new road shown to me by a friend. But it wasn't until I got out of my comfort zone here in the alien world of Iceland that I was really caught by surprise at the beauty of nature. Here I have had three encounters with nature that left me feeling blessed. Or if I may use the word, sublime.

The first came on a cool morning around 7:00. I had recently woken up to throw on my jogging attire. Hiking boots, sleeping shorts, trusty llama hat and long sleeve shirt. My morning jog takes me down by Pjorsa, the glacier fed river. A sight to behold on its own. But this morning it wouldn't be the river that made me stop. It was the sun, a few well placed clouds and Eyjafjallajökull. The infamous volcano was lit up by the sunrise like I had not seen before. By this day I had done this jog many times but it was as if I saw the mountain and glacier for the first time. Even after attempting to take it all in I couldn't take my eyes off the view the entire jog. How many landmine poos laid by the dog militia I set off I can not say.

The second and no less terrifyling awesome was a bike ride to Urridafoss. This past Tuesday I hopped on a bike and headed for the waterfall. Little did I know what awaited me. After much joyfull pedalling I came across a dinky parking lot that could fit at best 8 compact cars. Luckily there was only one SUV. Plenty of room for my bike. As I pulled in I wasn't sure it was even the right place. But then I spotted some mist and heard the roar of water. And what a roar it is. Urridafoss is the most voluminous waterfall in all of Iceland. The entire Pjorsa river flows through it. As I walked down the path to get a better view the only other couple of people there were on their way out. I found myself alone at what should surely be a highly visited tourist destination. Again I stood still and tried to take in what was in front of me. A waterfall like nothing I've seen. I lack the words to properly describe it and the mathematics don't do it justice. Unless you own a power company. In which case you see the math and think "how lovely". Which is why one day Urridafoss might turn into a trickle as a power company may divert the water to convert a magnificent sight, a unique sight, into simple electricity. As I sat down to eat my peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich I tried to wrap my head around that idea. I may never understand.

Most recently, last night actually, I was confronted by a third and final (for now) blessing. Never have I felt so small. I've always dreamed of seeing the Northern Lights and last night that dream came true. I was awoken by some awful sound and for a while sat in my sleeping bag bewildered as to why my new bunkmate Ricke had set her alarm to 11:30pm. It took me a bit to realize it was my staff phone ringing. I hopped up and sleepily answered it to hear "we have the Northern Lights". I had asked Siggi to let me know if he saw them, he must suffer from insomnia. Suddenly I was awake throwing on a sweater and pants to stumble out into the cold feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. And there in the sky in the direction the sun set was a green line. It seemed to be alive. Growing and shrinking and changing in intensity. At times it seemed like a big green misty cloud. Above me was a clear sky with countless stars and at my back was a moon nearing fullness. There was hardly a cloud and the silence was broken only by cows mooing at the next farm over. I'd like to think they were reviewing the show. "Nice one tonight isn't it Bessy?" I'm not sure how long I stood out in the cold looking above but it wasn't long enough. Now I can say I've seen the Northern Lights but I'm just as excited to see them again. Just like Christmas. Hopefully this comes more than once a year.

Three experiences and three times I was left feeling blessed. Left feeling there was something more at work than what I was sensing. The sublime. It all left me with a great ammount of respect for the world we live in. And what a world it is. I'm eager to see more. Thank you Iceland for shocking me. For showing me things I had dreamed of and reminding me some dreams come true. Like my Mom said, maybe this is the ultimate education. Soooweeee.

Sincerely,
Zeb