Knee deep in, let’s guess, 40-degree water. I crawl along on all fours underneath a tree that has fallen over the river; I slide down a waterfall on my bum. Now that is why I love traveling. The opportunity to be outside, it makes me feel alive. Climbing up the rocks, stepping on the moss to make sure that I don’t fall down in the freezing water, these experiences bring nature to life for me. But I don’t mind falling. The water is amazingly refreshing, especially since we have managed to land ourselves here in the middle of the one and only Scottish heat wave. All the locals tell us repeatedly, “This is such unusual weather that we are having,” and we keep replying, “Yes, we were expecting lots of rain.” And so the heat has been oppressive and being able to walk through the river was just what I needed. Although I do admit that I very tentatively put my sneaker down in the water for that first step; the water that I knew would completely saturate the thin material of my shoes. I could feel my socks start to become weighted down from the water rushing in. But after the first step I abandoned all sensible thinking and took the plunge.
Towards evening, far away from the river, a slight breeze runs through the trees as we sit outside. How wonderful it is to sit on top of a hill looking down on the town of Pitlochry, with all of its quaint stone houses and thin curving streets. Faintly from the distance comes the murmur of bagpipes. The breeze carries the tune only slightly; I can hear a tune, but it is impossible to tell the song. It’s 8pm. The sun is still above the mountains, but it’s getting colder as some clouds start to cover the sun. At that moment, below us, a song breaks out. A few folks sit out having a party on their patio. They begin to sing and their merry voices drift to our ears. It’s lovely. We sit in silence soaking up the atmosphere while we also try not to swallow any midges, tiny gnat-like creatures. Midges aside, it is an amazing night.
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