Fifth Journey Day 27: Shared Silence with a Bird
Date: June 4, 2025
Location: Klaksvík, Faroe Islands
I spent the afternoon tracing the slope that rises behind Klaksvík. I didn't climb it, but I followed it sideways, like a line drawn gently across the page. The weather never cleared. The mist hung low in the air, gently touching the rooftops and making everything seem a bit more mysterious. It was like a breath of fresh air after the bright colors and intense shadows of the previous scene. The landscape was bathed in soft greys, and the only sound was the steady, gentle breeze.
Christianskirkjan appeared out of that pale field like a memory. It is made of basalt and wood, and its roof looks like an upside-down boat. I sat on a bench outside for a long time, with a pencil in my hand, but I didn't draw for at least twenty minutes. I just watched it. The way the church's vertical lines met the horizontal folds of the mountain. Nothing here stands out. It's a place that asks you to speak more quietly.
A gull stood still on a fencepost in front of me. I thought about my piece from Höfn. But this bird wasn't just a symbol of calm; it was a symbol of patience. Observation. We were both doing the same thing.
Later, I walked back slowly. The mist had gotten thicker. At one point, I turned, and the church had disappeared behind the cloud. A total disappearance. But it didn't feel like a loss. It's just a change in how you see things — a reminder that being there and not being there are often made of the same stuff.
I didn't talk to anyone today. I didn't feel lonely either. My thoughts felt soft and gentle, like the weather. This quiet town somehow holds it together.
Tomorrow, I'll paint.
