My Dear, Scenic, Beautiful Highlands,
Truly, you are glorious, especially on blue-sky summer days with just a bit of a breeze blowing.
Your geology is astounding, and students travel here from around the world to study your formations and layers. You wear your age spectacularly.
Even though many of them are ruins, your castles are romantic relics of times long past.
And anyone who is interested in Robert Louis Stevenson’s grandfather’s business will delight in your many lighthouses, since the Stevenson family’s persistent legacy has kept your shores safe for many a year.
Each mile of coastline brings something new and interesting to admire, and your inland vistas are pretty special, too. You sure know how to do “scenic.”
The thing is, though, my most beloved Highlands… Do your historical sites really need to be so very, very far away from where we have to park the car?
My husband and I aren’t as young and spritely as we once were, you know, and sometimes we just need a place to sit down for a minute, though those can be in short supply.
Even so, thank you dear Highlands, for being so awesome in every sense. I truly have grown to love you. It’s just that… well… next time a “5- minute walk” actually turns out to be a half hour trudge amongst scattered ankle-turning stones and fragrant cow-pats, could you please send some help for the way back?
I’m not fussy, really. But I wouldn’t say no to this…