Walking Beside Waves: On Acknowledging Shifts in Oneself While Exploring the Scottish Isles

When I close my eyes, I can still feel the lightness of the grass as it brushes against my heals, and the way the sponge-like earth pushes these legs further, higher, and around every boulder; deep red and coral rocks scattered across the hillside, pressed up against walls that once stood much higher than ourselves, and the bog cotton that dances until it's met with crashing waves and sudden drop-offs. 

I so carefully rest my head on a boulder warmed from an unusually warm day for Scotland, not wanting to crush the pieces that make up this unforgettable moment. 

You see, when I share that with you, it feels meek and withered down to nothing in comparison to the feeling I had while standing, face to the wind, eyelashes bending up and down as my gaze fixates on the nothingness of the Pacific ocean.