Half Wild: Iceland’s Incredible Horses

For centuries Icelandic horses have lived half wild and half tame. In the summer farmers drive them to the highlands, where they live without human care for months. Owned by both farmers (who sometimes keep as many as 100) and city dwellers (who board animals at local farms), rural and urban Icelanders combine forces to gather the herds from the mountains over two weeks in September. They flow into pens and are sorted, some returning with foals that owners are seeing for the first time ever. Owners know their horses by sight.

So beautiful. 

The words that make the rose bloom were also said to me.
The words told to the cypress to make it grow strong and straight,
The instructions whispered to the jasmine,
And whatever was said to the sugarcane to make it sweet,
And to the pomegranate flowers to make them blush, 
The same thing is being said to me.


When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.

-Mary Oliver

I toasted oats this morning just to eat this half melon. I obviously added coconut. 

Less plastic and more chairs.