Jökulsarlon was one of those places. A glacier breaking apart, getting swept out to sea.
The ice was alive! Sitting quietly, you could hear the drips of the meltwater, the groaning of the giant bricks, the occasional alarming crack, the splash and wake of a cocktail cooler losing a chunk.
The ice was a dark blue in places from the ice being so compacted and thick. Other places, it was covered with the dirt it picked up dragging down the mountainside.
All of the icebergs eventually end up in the ocean.
It made me a bit sad as I felt like it was a glacier graveyard. It seemed like a solemn place.
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