Memorial to Jónas in Öxnadalur. Carved on the stone is the first strophe of Jónas's poem "The Pipit," in which he recalls the carefree days of his childhood in Öxnadalur, before the storms of life closed in:

Out in the fields, one autumn, when easy southern breezes blew, I blew into straw blades, blissfully making whistles.

Source: Photo Dick Ringler.