On an ordinary afternoon in Akureyri, horses are not hard to find. They seem to be everywhere, clustering in fields where they bow towards green and rust grasses.
On a sunny fall day west of the Eyjafjörður fjord the sun hangs so low that it seems always ready to begin its descent. A shell of brilliant pink-tinged gold hovers like a halo under each cloud.
An ordinary afternoon.
An extraordinary sight.