The topics in the waiting room

I just had a flashback upon viewing this post at Iceland Eyes. I was there, at Krysuvik, a few years ago: a place of natural hot springs, the land smoking as it does at Yellowstone, but far more isolated and (it seemed to me) more strongly sulfur-scented.

My husband and I were the only people there that day. And we were the only ones at Kleifarvatn, the lake also mentioned in the post. (We did not, however, see the fabled sea serpent.)

We were there in May, and we never really saw nighttime, although I think it still got dark for a few hours very late at night. Without the cues of night and day, we kept long strange hours. We visited many places where we were the only people anywhere around. Outside Reykjavik, the land was so sparsely populated that it was a little frightening but mostly invigorating. Being the kind of people who are fascinated by the Mid-Atlantic Rift (the seam between Europe and North America), we explored the rift in several places.

Iceland keeps creeping into various manuscripts of mine. I don't think any of them have been published yet, however. I have many places, and people, and events that are like that: I feel compelled to write about them, although I don't know how yet. I try them in one story and another. I feel them up there in the Muse's waiting room.