Iceland 64° Reykjavik Distillery

Moss grows between the stones, dark and damp. I climb a small hill, the landscape stretches its green arms to the sea. The horses are getting restless, they are not yet familiar with my scent. I stand still, for a long time, until they graze again. I stand still and look and the wind embraces my figure, carrying the scent of thyme to me. I rest by the juniper bushes, snacking on wild blueberries. The horses are close and now unafraid. They eat aromatic herbs, look at me, their skin is warm. I breathe the salty air, breathe until my tears come, I am free.
The stones by the sea are smooth and wet, I take off my shoes, the water washes over my toes, this happiness feels icy.