Scotland is magic. Despite the rain and cold, it captured my heart.
We arrived in Aberdeen in September of 2010 tired but excited .We wandered the streets enjoying gardens and churches then fell into bed exhausted. Immediately, I had this dream:
The lady across the street arrived with a white statue of Mary that she received as a gift. She is so excited .I am doing yoga stretches on the floor and trying to keep an eye on my grey and white cat to be sure he doesn't get out. Short dream but so vivid I wrote it in my journal.
Four days later, after Inverness, Culloden, and the Highlands, we arrived at the Isle of Skye to another lovely B and B with a view of the firth out the window.
John decided to hike north to a ruin visible from the town and I sat in a small park, bundled against the wind, reading "Braveheart." A young lad from Glasgow passed and was sure to tell me that the book wasn't true and we laughed. "Maybe, but its a great story", I told him. As we communed, a fluffy cat came from nowhere and jumped on the bench, then my lap. For the next hour we warmed each other. This had never happened to me before and I fell in love with that creature and so appreciated his warmth.
Alas, the dismal rain started again and I had to leave my furry friend to go inside. As I sat at the dining table, writing and enjoying the watery view, the Grandmother of the house came in. She didn't hand me a throw blanket, but with a smile she tenderly put it around my shoulders.
So I offer my prayers of thanksgiving for the health that John and I had to enable this trip, the kindness of the sweet Scot grandma, the warmth of the fluffy cat who joined us the next day at the bus stop and left only when we got on. He who was by the way, grey and white.
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