My Icelandic adventure is over now as the North wind definitely brought some winter. My face can speak about my wanderings. My feet as well. Yet, I don’t have any conclusions for this part of my trip. I was entirely led by the universe’s path. I was blown by the Icelandic summer and I enjoyed every moment, I cherished each wait, each of my soul’s tensions. I pushed my confidence and my faith further. I overcame some without resistance. I don’t know yet which of my steps belongs to Iceland, if it was another transition from France to elsewhere, from my before to my after, since she literally and geographically stands between Europe and North America, since she bleeds with the world’s broken wound. I don’t know what Iceland was meant for, she simply was and I was with her.
The island already shivers with winter – yesterday night storm whispered to my sleep – as I fly to another winter. Iceland won’t go anywhere, it will stand where it has been standing for thousands of years; it will get snowed, it will get dark, it will change throughout different seasons and I will probably come back under another sky, in other lights, because the world is huge and I like to eat it piece by piece, peacefully and with love, listening to each rock’s tiny message about the world, about my world.
During my long chosen wait at the airport, I think about my last hitchhiking experience… Fate, hope or whatever secret the universes is telling me, this encounter needs to be written on my ephemeral’s wings. I was picked up by a lovely and cheerful blond young lady with cheeks as pink as China doll’s, she only stops because of my huge backpack, guessing my destination without a word from me. She was going, pushed by her love wave, to Keflavik International Airport because she wanted to meet the one she just loved. He is Danish, she is Icelandic, they just spent a week together and madly fell in love with each other, like anyone always falls in love. They parted in the morning and her new lover wanted to keep some silent in between them, he wanted to have time to think before truly jump into this madness. Yet, his heart got stronger than his mind, they will be foolish indeed and will try to love despite long distance. Thus, she was on her way to surprise him for his last Icelandic night. A crazy story that reminds me of another, that my lonely heart still cherishes. Full of hope and passion. And I felt, and still feel, listening to my driver’s blazing heart, some regrets not to feel this sparkle anymore, this painful recklessness. It was such a long time ago…
Now, Alaska awaits for me somewhere; now, Seattle stands forty minutes later on the departures’ screen… Does 5.50 pm Seattle still mean something now it is deserted? I doubt it… Night butterfly or fireworks, exploding volcano or eternal flame, it is over now, it is a bitter sweet memory. I fly to my America, not ours that he swept out anyway. My lonely green heart furiously exile. Now is not time to countdown my missed departures, now is time to leave, brand new and ready to start whatever beginning is waiting for me.
Let’s go, though. Or close. Second step of my North journey. Long step in a new world. Despite the US government that never likes when you stay for too long. I am not even in the plane yet that my whole itinerary is thoroughly investigated by the border control, way before the actual border. My unknown returns scares them, my hanging job questions them as well. They are checking my truth, my whole truth, only the truth.
When I eventually fly closest to the poles, it is absolutely magic to be above the Great North. I am utterly moved by the multiple shades of white earth and sea’s beauty from the sky. When you look, from your moving grounds, towards the planes dancing with the clouds, you can’t picture windows are looking back at you… yet, what a story they must tell! Thus, I look Greenland’s grey desert running under me, I listen to glaciers’ song into the sea, I glance at both sharp and soft mountains, snowed with iced sugar. I am stunned by this polar snow that contains the Earth’s origin, almost dark after all those thousands of years.
Then, I gaze at Alaska for the first time, mesmerized, I fly above mountain ranges running towards Anchorage along Denali line, I see the landscape getting greener on huge brown rivers banks. My heart pounds with both Pole’s hypnotic magic and what awaits my Alaskan days.
Justine T.Annezo – Aug. 11th 2019, flying – between GTM+0 and GTM-8
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 