February 28 // 9:15PM
Glencoe // Scottish Highlands
The moon was bright, and the mountains were beautiful in the light. I was heading through the highlands to the Inner Hebrides, the islands off the coast of northwestern Scotland. It was cold. The southern part of Scotland had been hit with the worst snowstorm in half a century. The wind was whipping and howling through the mountains. As I came through Glencoe that night, the sky opened, for the first time since I had been in the country. The stars were beautiful, and stood out even among the bright moonlight. There was a dusting of snow on the mountain-tops, reminiscent of the feet of snow I had just left in the south and foreshadowing the snow that would come in the next few days.
I stopped to get a shot with my camera. The air chilling me to the bone as the wind whipped around my tripod. I had to take several shots to get a still image. It was beautiful, and it made me quite excited for what the next few days in the highlands would bring.
I thought about the Scots who lived in this country hundreds of years ago. How they must have struggled to survive this rugged place, but now understanding why they persisted. It’s beauty is unmistakable. Scotland grabs you, it’s unlike any other place – with a sense of lore and myth about it – you feel a bit like you’re in another world. Something similar to your own, with hints and traces of things you know, but with a new set of rules, and a new kind of people, in a new kind of land.
