Leaving the backroads and byways of the north Scottish highlands, I arrive in the city of Perth. My rucksuck is dusty and wet from the rain, my boots caked in mud.
“Making love to you was never second best.” -Modern English
“I saw the world thrashing all around your face.” -Modern English
A sudden rain storm followed me and I ducked into the Salutation for a spell. My eyes so tired. My body weary. So many miles these legs have carried me.
“Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace.” -Modern English
Perth is famous for this old Sir Walter Scott story, The Fair Maid of Perth. Now... I love Walter Scott, but even I needed to squish down in a back corner booth and give it a read.
Later crossing the Tay River along the Queen's Bridge, looking back at Smeaton's Bridge and St. Matthew's Church, I stopped and just listened to the rushing water sail beneath me and dreamed of the fair.
“Dropped in the state of imaginary grace.” -Modern English
Perth is also famous for a grassroots calling by John Knox for the Scottish Reformation and the destruction of idols...You've got to love a lace that tried to wipe clean their past but later became famous for producing whiskey and bleach.
“I made a pilgrimage to save this human’s face.” -Modern English
Here is St. John's Kirk, where Knox set the people to sack the Houses of Grey and Blackfriars.
“What I’m comprehending a race that’s long gone by.” -Modern English
How times have changed. Now I wander these streets looking for a friendly face, speaking to people in passing as they quickly turn and move away.
Books and churches, cobbled streets and old stone buildings, dark boothes for ducking away and bridges to bring me back to life. Sometimes it seems the road and I are one. Lines blur. I've melted away.