Part of a series of posts about a residency at Hlaðan in Iceland. So there was only one dark night during my entire stay in Iceland. After a delicious lobster and mussel feast toasted with a local berry wine (thank you gracious hosts of Minni-Vogar), I walked home at about 2:00 in the morning, which was the darkest moment I had experienced in weeks. Street lights lit up the sky and glimmered in the distance. There was a thick cloud cover and a huge wind that I had to lean forward into to balance as I trudged home. The spit of rain stung my cheeks and eyelids.
I had just finished putting the temple together earlier in the day and wanted to spend some time in it before it became crowded at the opening the following day. So, I grabbed my camera and soldiered back to the barn with a bag of candles and a pack of matches. I lit a group of them and let the glow fill up the space. As the wind blew over, the room reverberated, whistled and hummed, a moaning chant.