“Are we in Scotland yet?”
“I don’t know. Cows. Sheep. People playing golf.”
“Yep. We’re in Scotland.”
And what a country to be in. I hated leaving London, a city I have claimed as my own. But my sadness quickly faded as I caught glimpses of the Scottish countryside. If only my words could paint that beauty. The beauty comes from the natural, untouched quality of those rolling hills.
The sky was no longer a battleship grey, London feeling, but instead a clear blue, puffy cloud, happy Scottish wonder. These images whipped past us on the train. It was hard to take it all in. My eyes became heavy and burdensome. I think all of the stress and uncertainty of the past week hit me, the adrenaline finally wearing off. We took that train to simply be. To laugh, to be childish, to snack, to write, to nap, to do whatever our hearts desired. It was perfectly lovely.
I think I will be able to process more tomorrow, after a hilarious comedy show tonight at the Fringe and a hard night sleep. Wonderful to meet you, Edinburgh. See you in the morning.
Ticket to Write 