Scotland wasted no time being Scotland. Mere minutes after we pulled out of Edinburgh on our way to Inverness, the skies — already overcast to begin with — started dropping big beads of rain on the roof and windows of our train. No matter. The gloomy weather only enhanced the drama of the scenes unfolding outside. Mountains, moors, lochs, light, shadow, sheep, horses, heather. Scotland: strong, resilient, valiant, fierce, unfailingly beautiful.
Strangely enough, the cold, remote, sometimes desolate landscape secretly warmed my heart. Perhaps the bleakness outside called out in kinship to the bleakness within, to that part of me that still grieved for things lost. I looked at the gray skies and the near empty earth and thought: my sadness has found its home. I could be happily sad here for the rest of my life.
But that was only the beginning.
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