I wish to feel the wind again. I wish to feel like I was flying again. My hair fluttered back. The wind pounded in my face. There was always a chill. The smell of fish rose from the sea, a welcoming smell. The rain was constant, but when the sun managed to break through the near constant cloud cover, it was like the world was on fire. Everything glittered like small diamonds. And then sun fell over the sea again.

After an experience like I had this summer, it is hard to come back here. It is hard to be here. It is hard to sit around and doing nothing.

I wish to be climbing over green covered mountains. I wish to lay in the grass. I wish to feel the rain, and I wish to have the cold. The cold is a reminder of the nature I was in. I even wish to walk down the century old streets again and know everything like the back of my hand.

And I came back here.

For two months of my life, this summer, I spent in Scotland for study abroad. It is a large enough country (within a country). I can’t just say all of Scotland. At some point in my life, even last week, I would have said I wished to go back to Edinburgh, and earlier in my life, I would have said I wished to go back to London. London is too big now. Edinburgh seems too busy. And though I like that amusement and entertainment, I don’t want to be there now.

I want to be in peace.

Isle of Skye is located on the peninsulas of Scotland at the top. In the summer, Isle of Skye barely receives darkness. In the winter, it rarely receives daylight. I choose that place to be.

Out there, I was alone with my thoughts. I sat in peace. I admired everything. There was a certain shine about the rocks on the beach. Across the shores, when the tide went out, a seaweed or sea urchins were left on the beach, and they squished as you walked on them. Green mountains arose around you, making a cocoon, as you slept near the Atlantic ocean. The waves came in; the waves went out. You were protected. You were loved. And you loved the land.

Forever and ever the green rolled on. Only the green collided with water. There were few houses and fewer people. You could have been stranded, but it didn’t seem possible. Everything was in abundance.

The wind picked up and brought you somewhere. If you were lost, the wind would have guided you home. It did for me.

There has never been any other place in my life that I have felt so free.

I was calm.

I was peaceful.

I was welcomed.

I was home.

Colors blinded. Sound sang. Peace breathed. I wasn’t lost in the shuffle of people and cars. There wasn’t a reason to get anywhere. There wasn’t a thought of where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to be doing. I didn’t think about what work I had or what I was missing in my life. I didn’t think about friends, family or anyone else. To some people, it might seem selfish. But this was the one time I was ever alone, and I loved it.

I wasn’t truly alone as my friends called to me. They climbed over rocks and up things that I would never dream to do. I looked away so I didn’t have a heart attack from the panic. They were apparently desperate to fall off a cliff. I was desperate to stay perfectly still.

If I stayed still enough, the grass would grow around me, becoming a blanket. Vines would spread over me, not allowing me to leave. Flowers would bloom to mark my house. Animals would notice no different. Slowly they would be around me. If I stayed still enough, everyone would forget about me and I would be allowed to stay.

“Sophie,” they called, “let’s go.”

No. I didn’t want to go.

“One more minute,” I yelled back.

I hated to break the silence.

Eyes turning back to my view, pictures didn’t do it justice. Words didn’t do it justice. Not a poet or philosopher of the great Scotland could perfectly describe what sat in front of me. How was I supposed to explain this to people? In truth, I didn’t want to explain it to people. This was my own piece of peace. This was my heaven. This was happiness. This was calmness. This was never ending.

“Sophie!”

I stayed still, one last time, and thanked the Isle of Skye.

I got up and left.

Now, here I am, back in college again. Lake Superior isn’t right. I saw the ocean. I want the ocean. These trails don’t compare to the hills of Scotland. The green grass isn’t right. I have homework to do and I have a job. I should be doing that or I should be doing this. None of it matters. Out my window, I can’t even imagine Scotland. A train horn ruins my peace. Semi trucks carrying gasoline, lumber and Cheetos go by on Belknap Ave. The sun is too much; turn it off. Give me rain instead.

I was in love, and I am now heartbroken at the world around me. I tasted greatness. I was greatness. Now, I am one of many again. I am destined to be one of many forever. My days are spent on schedules of class, class, break, class, break, class, work. I go to my room; I go back out. Class, work, class, break, class, work, food.

Take me come home, Scotland. Take me home to the Isle of Skye. Take me to love. Take me to peace. Let me go home. Let me fly again. Let me breathe again. Let me live again. Take me home to Scotland. Please.