Here's a shot from my trip 3 years ago of the mountain that's presently erupting:
This is the mid-Atlantic rift shown near the site of the world's oldest parliament:
You'd expect such weird geology to make an island rather numinous. Here's the sort of thing the Icelandic numina get up to:
Now I'm on a roll, so I'll re-post a poem from my last visit:
Rhubarb's a stem and not a fruit,
Prunes and muesli make you toot,
But snorchestras will drown out wind.
Allegedly (I'm not convinced)
Box jellyfish aren't jellyfish and
Greenland is further east than Iceland.
A Minister of Elvish Matters
Defines the routes of roads and detours.
Dottirs and ssons of Irish slaves
Kill foxes, whales, whatever moves,
And there's a certain charm in grimness,
Tax evasion, drunken primness,
Strapping horses, strapping women.
Real men who smell of fish and semen.
Fire and ice,
I think it's nice.