Hoist sail for home

This viking ship wasn't the first thing I saw in Iceland that I wanted to photograph: that would be the incomprehensible landscape of lava fields below us, as we flew in to Keflavik. But it was the first thing I saw after I set foot on the ground, dazed from being in movement for twelve hours, and by the return to evening daylight after nightfall. Even in that state, I thought it was beautiful, and noticed that it sails on a sea of glass boulders (I didn't know then that glass is one of the limited number of things they actually make in Iceland).

And yesterday as we headed back to the gate and the plane and England and eventually home, it was the last thing in Iceland I photographed. Not the greatest picture, but it feels like a good omen, a promise of voyages to come.

After that it was Manchester, and waking to rain, and a homeward drive over the Pennines, and picking up threads - there will be more photos, and there will be more posts, but right now I'm going to remove the half-unpacked suitcase from my bed, and get some sleep (in my own bed: there are good things about coming home, too).