I was recording the Brúarárfoss waterfall for quite a long time in the temperature reaching -12°C, and it felt probably even lower over the water, so when I put the recorder in my backpack, I felt like a climber fastening crampons under the eight-thousanders – my hands were so frozen that I had to help myself with my teeth. Everything was packed, I was walking quickly towards the accommodation, because the sun was already setting (after two hours of presence in the sky), I only dreamed of warming my hands and mulled wine. Suddenly, just below the waterfall, I heard something special in the river. Because the river usually hums regularly, and here it splashed more. A bit like a lake, a bit like the sea. I walked closer and it turned out to be a hollow in the bottom of the river that was first absorbing the water and then spitting it out. Hence the sound like waves crashing against rocks or a bridge. “It sounds interesting. More interesting than the waterfall itself”, I thought. “But I have everything packed, I’m so cold, I won’t be recording it. That’s fine. I’ll keep it in my memory”, I said to myself and started walking in the opposite direction. I took ten steps, then stopped. I turned to face the water once more. Two steps forward again. And finally, with the known word on my lips, I returned, unpacked the equipment and recorded two minutes of this symphony. Hope it was worth it.
