Magical Landscapes

Sometimes I dream about the wild, untamed landscapes of the UK, of the drives taken around Scotland, watching the transformation of the land rise with sloping hills as we drove north. More rugged became the scene. More dramatic and mountainous. More breathtaking.

I stumbled across a photo I took from the car, as we pulled off the side of the road somewhere south of Glen Coe. You can see me in the rear view mirror taking the photo. The bare, dramatic peaks were in front of me, with a thick layer of cloud resting on the top, enshrouding just the peak completely. The cloud hung there, leaving a surreal feeling that if I raised my arm I could graze the bottom of its puffy greyness.

As I recall, the cloud moved out of the area a minute later, because the weather there literally changes every two minutes. The way the sunlight hit the side of the mountain highlights the drama of its placement. I remember just gazing at that scene in amazement, at how such a windswept landscape could be so utterly beautiful, and yet, I had no idea what I was in for. We were on our way to Glen Coe, and then to the Isle of Skye after that. Two places that forever in my memory hold the deepest, most magical landscapes I have ever seen.

I dream about these magical places because I have been there, and I can imagine all the scenes in my mind. I can walk along the path again. I can feel the wind whipping through my hair. I can see the cliffs and hear the sound of the crashing waterfall into the sea. I dream of going back. To touch and see these bits of creation. To be in it. To dwell there even for a day is a gift. God has created and still creates such beauty in this world that we get to see.