The sun was lazily peeking around the steeple of a church and through the turrets on the top of a century old building. There was no breeze and just a hint of coolness ticked my sun-drenched arms and face. The air smelled of fresh cut grass and fried fish and on top of that was a hint of something different, something foreign and strange. The ample sized river cutting through the village was dotted with specks of sun and there was a clear reflection of the cloud dotted sky. The green grass aside the gentle river looked so inviting, but there was no time for rest, no stopping the adventure. There were places to see, new and exiting things to eat and different people to meet. I snapped a picture of the perfect scene so that I would never forget that moment. I fondly look at the picture I took of that beautiful river and village in Inverness, Scotland all the time. Looking at that scene makes me feel an intense longing to relive every moment that took my breath away on that trip. That village scene, along with so many others, will forever be stamped on my heart, to never, ever forget. Ever.
In honor of my upcoming trip, I thought to share a little ditty I wrote years ago about a distinct memory of a trip to Scotland.
I yearn to return to the British Isles. How does one feel an intense longing and homesickness for a place that’s not their home? Maybe in a past life I lived in England, or Scotland, in a quaint village, or up in the otherworldly Scottish Highlands? Maybe.
“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other places, other lives, other souls” -Anais Nin
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Rants, Ramblings, and Regrets
