the hour of soft light...

Highlander in the lowlands

Up in Estes Park, they’re preparing for the Highland Games.
Clan Ross will march without me again this year. Heavy sigh.
Ross plaid
For the record, they almost marched without me the first year when I showed up in the wrong plaid, but I made up for it ever after by decking out properly…even my kids and our Scotty dog, Fiona.
Now I hookah up to the bagpipes wherever I can find them…breathe in their infusion of misty moors…my ancestors rising up in goosebumps spreading through my veins.

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