S C O T L A N D .........AhhhhhThough it was only for nine days, and it’s been a whole year since I stepped foot on Scotland; I still get that feeling. Something will trigger it. I even have a hard time wearing those shoes and pants; because when I do, they too will remind me, and this image, along with that eminent day; will again come forth.
As I write this, I have to stop periodically to get a hold of myself. It’s a feeling somewhat like a chill running down my spine on the verge of goose-bumps. It would eventually lead to tears, if I didn’t quickly divert my attention elsewhere. And if I don’t close my eyes; that mistake would only send me back, and enhance the poignant sensation more, and I would surly break down. I miss you, Scotland.
My Y o u T u b e Channel
As I write this, I have to stop periodically to get a hold of myself. It’s a feeling somewhat like a chill running down my spine on the verge of goose-bumps. It would eventually lead to tears, if I didn’t quickly divert my attention elsewhere. And if I don’t close my eyes; that mistake would only send me back, and enhance the poignant sensation more, and I would surly break down. I miss you, Scotland.
My Y o u T u b e Channel
This reaction came over me when my feet actually stepped on those old cobblestones at Edinburgh Castle - and it hasn’t gone away or lost any of it’s strength. It’s a tactile sense of being totally and irreversibly humbled. I was immersed in an awe of wonder, reverence, veneration, solemnity, adoration and astonishment; that took hold of me step after step.
Not only was I taken-back by the history under foot, I felt somewhat ashamed that I was walking on these stones at all; that I was told by my guide were placed there in the 1300’s. Out of respect I veered off to the side of the primeval path and walked beside the stone relics, instead of on them. Who did I think I was, anyway? How dare I! To me; I don’t think I, or the other tourists, should have been aloud to stroll there. These stones should have been under glass and guarded like the Queens Jewels; I was privileged to gaze upon a few moments later, on that splendid day.
Not only was I taken-back by the history under foot, I felt somewhat ashamed that I was walking on these stones at all; that I was told by my guide were placed there in the 1300’s. Out of respect I veered off to the side of the primeval path and walked beside the stone relics, instead of on them. Who did I think I was, anyway? How dare I! To me; I don’t think I, or the other tourists, should have been aloud to stroll there. These stones should have been under glass and guarded like the Queens Jewels; I was privileged to gaze upon a few moments later, on that splendid day.Then, after completing the ‘Royal Mile' ....
....treading on yet more ancient stones. Stones that Kings and Queens may have sauntered over as well. Or they were cobblestones, I fantasized, that may have been next to or close to the stones that felt the full weight of their promenade. Possibly, those stones I meekly ambled on, could of felt the splash of their royal blood at one time – I was overcome by the sensation. A thrill that would parallel what Astronauts acquire when they step on another planet. Most, if not all of Scotland should be guarded and under thick, locked glass.
Not the miles between us or the mass of the Atlantic Ocean or anyplace I’ve been since; has tempered this for me. My one small steps on these cobblestones of Scotland, was a giant leap of discovery for me. I’ll never be the same. And I look forward to trekking on this land again; because I barely touched the surface. Thank you dear Scotland.
(Few photographers would admit this)
Funny, I was trying to step on as few stones as possible, when I mistakenly took a picture of my feet as they were stepping back.
Not the miles between us or the mass of the Atlantic Ocean or anyplace I’ve been since; has tempered this for me. My one small steps on these cobblestones of Scotland, was a giant leap of discovery for me. I’ll never be the same. And I look forward to trekking on this land again; because I barely touched the surface. Thank you dear Scotland.(Few photographers would admit this)
Funny, I was trying to step on as few stones as possible, when I mistakenly took a picture of my feet as they were stepping back.
No comments:
Post a Comment