In case you were wondering: no, I haven’t fallen off the face of the Earth. I just happen to have spent the past week at the ends of the Earth, though - namely, in the wee town of Glenelg on the wild west coast of Scotland. It was a week of walking along heathery hillsides, clambering over Iron Age forts, boating on the Sound of Sleat, drinking fine whisky from the Isle of Skye and reveling in the vastness and silence of the western Highlands. By the end of my vacation, I was fully prepared to buy myself a little whitewashed cottage on a loch somewhere and settle down to a life of sheep farming or fishing or something, anything that would let me stay in that majestic landscape forever.
I took about a million pictures, some of which I will organize into a gallery for this site when I get the chance. In the mean time, I find myself sitting in my tiny flat in the “big city” and staring out the window absently at the buildings and people and cars, but still seeing rushing waterfalls and rugged mountainsides and misty Scottish glens in my mind’s eye.
I ♥ Scotland.