Edinburgh sun; perfect day for a hike to Arthur’s Seat, and besides it was my last day before taking the train to Oban. Why is this hill called Arthur’s Seat? No one knows but the name leaves much to the imagination—King Arthur and all that. The walk/hike up took an hour; it’s impossible to figure the distance because there are many paths to choose from. You just wander up, hoping you’ve picked one of the easier ones. Same for the hike down.
Silence, solitude and simplicity, but also community. I stopped to talk with a woman sitting along the path, cane by her side. She was grateful that she could climb as far as she did and was now waiting for her daughter who was making the hike to the top. “I was diagnosed with MS in ’97 and look what I can do! I’m so grateful and am just appreciating the scenery.” She went on to tell me that at age 43 she became pregnant and what a gift her daughter has been. Two days ago, on her 70th birthday, her daughter telephoned to say that they were going to Scotland for three days to celebrate. And there she was, sitting on the grass half way up Arthur’s Seat.
I told her the ‘very grateful’ story of my mom’s last words, and then went on my way.
Silence, solitude and simplicity, but also community. I stopped to talk with a woman sitting along the path, cane by her side. She was grateful that she could climb as far as she did and was now waiting for her daughter who was making the hike to the top. “I was diagnosed with MS in ’97 and look what I can do! I’m so grateful and am just appreciating the scenery.” She went on to tell me that at age 43 she became pregnant and what a gift her daughter has been. Two days ago, on her 70th birthday, her daughter telephoned to say that they were going to Scotland for three days to celebrate. And there she was, sitting on the grass half way up Arthur’s Seat.
I told her the ‘very grateful’ story of my mom’s last words, and then went on my way.