Sunday, September 16, 2012

Top of the World at Durness Scotland

And then you come to the end of the road... where the stones drop off into the sea.
It was sundown and quite cold and I wrapped a scarf around my neck and headed out into the fading sunlight past the stone walls out into the fields.
Here is the last of Scotland, over the highland passes and around the lochs, to Durness and the open water beyond.
There were sheep grazing and a shepherd calling them to waddle back. Men in the pub holding their pints close. Campers had strung out their tents with the flaps facing south. I stood north, my face against the wind.
Stopped by this little cottage along the grassy field.  The woman inside offered a spot of tea but I declined.  I was heading down to the shore and just passing by.
Down through the posts my thoughts fell to the cold beauty of the Oregon coasts.  Days with my parents as a boy flying kites barefoot in the sand, picnic lunches from strong wicker baskets, and hooded sweatshirts that always seemed too small for my growing limbs.
An Oregonian would love the coast of Scotland, this northern most point.
So many things remind you of home when you travel, nature especially.  I rest her and watch the sun dive slowly off the tip of the world and begin to head east along the ridge of this island country before heading south.  I've castles yet to climb and cities to sack.  Onward in the dark, racing through the night.

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