Forth Bridge and Forth Road Bridge in east central Scotland
Hello again, my friends. Are you all having a nice weekend? I sure am. Just when My Plaid Heart thought it couldn’t physically handle another weekend of Virginia temperatures in the mid-upper 90’s, Mother Nature has finally thrown us a bone. It is GLORIOUS outside with early fall-like temps, lower humidity, and a nice, cool breeze. It’s short-lived, though. Pity that the dreadful temperatures are set to return next week. Pity indeed.
In keeping with the aforementioned cool breeze, I’d like to invite you to come along with me today as we set sail on the brackish waters of the estuary that meets the North Sea – the Firth of Forth.
The wheels on American Airlines, Flight 6404 gracefully departed the Edinburgh, Scotland runway and we rapidly ascended into the sky on the path towards home. Always a bit of a nervous flier, I tried my best to relax and breathe while our aircraft climbed ever higher. I leaned my head back against my seat and tried to focus my mind on the wonderful memories of the previous two weeks.
Still ascending, our pilot banked a left turn. My husband quickly turned my attention to the window where I caught sight of the massive Forth bridges rising out of the water below. As if on cue, the floodgates opened as the realization finally hit me that I was being carried far away from the place that I love so much.
I stink when it comes to goodbyes. It makes no difference if the thing I’m goodbye-ing is a person or a place. My eyes will inevitably leak. And, of course, my cry is never a dainty, pretty cry. It’s quite the opposite. As someone who normally keeps her emotions in check, this snotty outburst always renders me red, puffy, and embarrassed. My tears on the flight that day were no exception.