Dreams

Out on the mossy moors of Iceland stand houses collapsing slowly into themselves, still memorials of family dreams and lost hope. Iron roofs rust to a deep red that compliments the colors of the surrounding landscape and weathered timber frames take on the same kind of rough fragility as the lava that surrounds them. They seem to belong just as they are, slipping quietly into decay, making hard to imagine them new in such lonely places, filled with children and with the warm smells of a hopeful family's home.