Úti í Grøv og Mai-mynd

Àarinnar hvítu blettir
tekkjast gilsins botni í --
og við ósan alduslettir
sællir berjast barnastríð.

Og víð vágsins smáu brotum
duffar æðuríkisverð --
ríðandi á alduskotum
summarmjørkafleyrið fer.

Undan fjallatokusløri
hómast blettir, skúmi líkir --
kavalægd hjá grønum svørði
dikst við dalsins mórudíkir.

Christian Matras's first poem, Mai-mynd, was inspired by a park just outside the town of Klaksvik. If you have ever visited Úti í Grøv, you're sure to understand why the peaceful spot so easily inspires. The small campside just outside the park happened to be the first place we stayed on our visit, in August of 2012, and it quickly become our favourite place in the Faroe Islands, as we found ourselves spending our entire trip exploring and enjoying the area, neglecting even a full days stay in the captital!

On each visit to the Faroe Islands, we managed to spend quite a bit of our time camping at Úti í Grøv. Here, spruce and pine plantations straddle the banks of two cascading rivers, and wild heather bursts into purple flowers in the summer. Beyond the park's fence, following the two rivers upstream, the grass yields to the rock outcrop, and is surrounded on both sides by a steep headland. A large cleft cuts through the middle of the white cliffs towering beyond. I have always dreamed of standing on those cliffs, looking west upon the valley, with the park and plantation below, and possibly onwards towards Eysturoy and Streymoy. Standing there, I could shift my view from the endless sea in the south to the east, and look down upon the cozy settlement of Árnafjørður, nestled in the deep fjord, with Fugloy, Svinoy, and perhaps Viðoy, sailing in the sea fog beyond. But I would be sure to wait for a clear day to climb those cliffs, so I could look north along the spine of Borðoy's greatest mountains. Someday, I hope I will climb across those mountains, too.

The area has even inspired my own writing. In the fog, the area beyond what can be seen from the park below turns into a dream, with infinite brooks meandering through rock mazes. The world up there feels small yet immense. If the eyes are cast to the ground, the world of elves and hidden people abounds. Lifting the gaze, birds circle the towering ledges above, reminding us that ancient giants carved these great steps and seats. In one story, I take a walk up into this rock fall, in an attempt to view the towering Mykjanoyrarfjall.

Climbing to the Kviging pass one cloudy day, we were helped up the steep talus slope by the wind only to find a warm, sun-filled valley seated in the calm dry air below. It looked like paradise: the grass, this day, was greener on the other side. Unfortunately, we were not prepared to climb down.