The song of the Golden Plover is supposed to be the ultimate sign of spring here in Iceland. But there are many other “ultimates”. Kids on their bikes for example, or jumping manically on trampolines in back yards. The weeds that sprout way before the grass, and add a pretty green color the the barren land, the centipedes running frantically from under turned rocks and gymnastics on the beach.
And the surest sign of all, the years first “harvest”: fresh sorrel for the evening salad.