Am currently sitting in the cosiest cafe, Stofan kaffihus, in the heart of Reykjavik. I have had two perfect lattes, and the music has included Diana Ross & The Supremes, Air, El Perro Del Mar, and now the best of Elvis. I am writing this because I never, ever, ever want to forget this moment. I am so content. So happy. On my own, and so happy.
To Scandinavia :)
When David Guttenfelder showed us the pictures he shot for “Last Song for Migrating Birds,” a story about how poachers coat tree branches with glue to trap migrating songbirds, I was horrified.
Who would want to eat a sweet little oriole? And how could there possibly be enough meat to make the effort worthwhile? It would be one thing if people need the birds to subsist, but that’s mostly not the case. These birds are considered delicacies that people pay a lot of money for.
So when David projected this image of a man with the wing of a blackcap in his lips, I braced myself for a gruesome story about how the man ate the bird live. Instead, David told us, the man was actually a conservationist sucking the sticky sap from the wings of a bird that had been stuck in a glue trap.