Yesterday Bart recommended to our readers an article that appeared in the NY Times on the effects of darkness on Icelanders. It just so happens that this article, "If No Icelanders Admit to Feeling Blue, Are They?", written by Sarah Lyall, was the forth-most e-mailed article of the day.
This can either mean one of two things:
all those folks who read the NY Times also click onto our website, and actually take the things we write seriously, which is very scary;
or NY Times readers have a curious fascination with those of us crazy enough to live on a windy rock where winter lasts from October to May.
I will say this: the darkness doesn't depress me in the slightest because I really, really, really love it. It's so cozy being bottled up in one's home as the wind rattles the foundation. What a feeling it is to get stuck between night and day.
Light a candle, go swimming (did you know that the 7 to 9 pools in the Reykjavik area are all geothermally heated?), or as many locals do, go on an 8-month bender, take a week off then start over in the summer.
One of the photographs accompanying the article showed a man walking home from the geothermal pool barefoot in the snow. Exactly how many drinks did he sneak into the hot-pot? EW