In the summer of 1988 I stayed with uncle Sturla, at his farm in Iceland called Fossatún (e. Waterfall Fields). The farm is situated just above waterfalls in a popular fishing river, and is a beautiful farmstead with a 1000 year of history. Also his son (my cousin) was my age and he and I were good friends, and still are great friends. I was 16 years old in the summer of 1988 and took a so-called Country Bus from the capital city of Reykjavík and to the farm in the country side, which took around 2.5 hours back in those days, and stayed with them for 4 days, sleeping in spare bedroom. I was out all day with my cousin and his 2 friends, so there were 4 of us 16 years old boys, hanging around the farm and neighboring farms, which was pretty fun. The sun was shining all the days and we practiced driving the tractor. The river that ran through the fields of them farm was a very popular and expensive salmon fishing river, and my uncle used to farm and develop wild salmon fish eggs in a small house by the waterfalls, and when the fish had hatched from the eggs he would let them loose in the river, to ensure that they would return to the river from the sea at a later time, then being full-grown as adult salmon. He wanted the river to have a lot of salmon every summer, to keep the Flyfisher customers happy and coming back to fish in the river. Well my uncle was having trouble with some ravens, that kept trying to enter into the house by the river to find food, and it was clear that the ravens has a bird nest close by and were feeding the their young. This had gone on for a while at this point and he wanted get rid of this problem by getting rid of the raven from the cliffs by the waterfalls, so he tasked my cousin, me and his friends to clear out the nest. We went down the on a Sunday afternoon and found the location of the nest, but it was to high up to reach from the ground and could be reached from the cliff above, if you used a long stick. We decided to walk around a look for a stick and eventually we found and broken old road signpost that was lying around at the farm. After our find we walked back to the cliffs edge and I took the signpost and extended my arms the way to the nest and managed to push a couple of the chicks out of the nest. If was so difficult to do for long, so we switched places and my cousin took my place with the signpost, and we pushed the rest of the three chicks out of the nest. We then went below the cliffs and collected the five chicks and showed them to our uncle. He took each of the chicks out of the bag and killed them by ringing theirs necks, then he put them back in the bag and threw is the trash. The raven parents later returned to the nest, and fining nothing in the nest the spent all day and the night looking for the chicks by flying around the area and farm. Finally they left the area in despair. Problem solved.
