Reykjavik grew up around the edges of this former sea lagoon, which was only fully separated from the ocean in 1989 to become the freshwater body it is today. Despite sitting right in the center of the capital, the water is remarkably shallow – averaging just over half a meter deep – which makes it an ideal habitat for the dense population of ducks, geese, and swans that claim the territory. The pond is actually a chain of wetlands and water bordered by paved paths, with the main section cut in two by the Skothúsvegur causeway.
Civic life presses right up against the banks; the modern concrete columns of City Hall dip directly into the water on the northern edge, while colorful corrugated iron houses and the Fríkirkjan church line the eastern perimeter. The birdlife drives the daily activity here, with families regularly stopping at the water’s edge to feed the flocks. In winter, the dynamic shifts. The surface freezes solid enough for ice skating and crossing on foot, turning the water into a temporary plaza. A single corner is kept open by geothermal heating, forcing the birds into a crowded, noisy huddle that remains active even in the coldest months. To the south, the paved banks soften into the green spaces and walking trails of Hljómskálagarður Park.
Tjörnin
