Through the march of time, there are moments that dance in our minds and hearts. Rising to the surface when we least expect them. Like the Northern Lights, they are awe inspiring and difficult to grasp. They Illuminate the deepest parts of our soul before vanishing just as suddenly. They remain unfinished, like the cadence of a Tranströmer poem; Elliptical and incomplete, they interrupt the narrative of life, appearing without warning. And that’s the way it should be.
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My wife and I visited Glasgow last night to enjoy the lights and markets at George Square. We then went for some food in a Greek restaurants. On the return to the train station we passed a place that brought a memory flooding in.
It was winter 2010, and I was returning from giving a speech in Oban on Scotland’s west coast. The train stopped at Crianlarich due to a heavy snowfall that blocked the tracks. As I waited, I watched a group of adults rediscover their childhood joy, building a massive snowman on the platform to pass away the hours. Their laughter echoed in the frosty air.
It was late in the evening when I finally arrived back in Glasgow. The streets that bustled earlier were alone for the evening.
But amidst the contemplative silence in a shadowy corner was a lone piper, standing resolute against the chill. As Highland Cathedral echoed through the darkness, the haunting melody filled the night. I gave way to tears as many other lonely walkers may have that evening. I was touched by the unexpected beauty of it all.
Highland Cathedral
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAleMD6InzU
