I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite overcanopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk roses and with eglantine.
Iceland is full of desolate, hraun (lava) fields, some moss-coated, others bare as an outer planet. The southern sandurs, outwash plains, are dark deserts. But, with all its rain and long summer days, and the mild effects of the Gulf Stream, the island also has a rich profusion of wildflowers.
We saw the most enormous dandelions, and vast fields of arctic lupine.
The grass and moss are emerald, the flowers jewels.