A Gentle Farewell to Scotland.

This is, sadly, our last full day in Scotland before we begin the long journey back to Docosie III tomorrow. It is remarkable how a place can feel both newly discovered and quietly familiar, as if some part of you had been waiting for it without realising.

Scotland has offered us more than we expected. Not only its landscapes but its silences, its shifting moods, and its gentle way of slowing the world around you. A week is nowhere near enough. Ranih and I already know we will return for a longer stay as soon as we can, one where the days are allowed to unfold instead of being counted.

Between bouts of packing, we spent most of today near the cottage and the shores of Loch Ness. The light had a softness to it, the kind that makes everything feel suspended for a moment. The hills, the water, even our thoughts seemed to settle into a quiet stillness. It felt as though the land was offering us one last moment of calm before we leave.

The peace was broken only by birdsong drifting through the trees and the occasional scamper of a squirrel or a Pine Marten weaving through the undergrowth. Small, fleeting signs of life that somehow made the stillness feel even more profound.

As we walked back to the cottage, I found myself lingering over the details. The scent of damp earth, the texture of old stone, the way the wind curled around the loch. All the little things you do not realise you have grown attached to until you are preparing to leave them behind.

It has been a beautiful final day, touched with that gentle sadness that comes when a place has meant more to you than you expected.

Image from Unsplash by David Ford