4.11.05

walking with heather through the streets of north berwick, pronounced 'north berick,' taking turns walking near the road on too small sidewalks. getting grit blown in our eyes from the wind, stronger than usual because we're on the ocean. seeing the town run out as we walk up a hill: a community swimming pool, little boys in swimming trunks running around the edges inside glass walls. the smell of chlorine outside, drifting over someone's flowering hedge. heather found an unopened package of starburst on the ground and we picked it up and then left it sitting on a rail near a playground viking ship. the extinct volcano rearing up out of nearly flat ground; someone set it down there and forgot about it a long time ago.

we walked through a narrow, narrow opening in an old stone wall by a little creek to access the path up the mountain. volcano. big pile of rock. the path didn't last long, leading us through a sheep pasture and quickly giving up when things got steep. the wind was like nothing i'd ever felt before, pelting us from all angles. if you turned the wrong way, it poured in your ears and filled your head up to bursting. the incline was steeper than anything i'd ever climbed before, especially in treadless sneakers. the wind kept blowing my hair in my face, blinding me. they wouldn't let tourists climb this thing in america; someone would die and there would be lawsuits. heather and i both got blown flat against the ground by the wind. 'flat against the ground,' in this case, is more along the lines of 'flat against a slightly slanted rocky wall that happens to be inexplicably covered in rabbit poop.' we came over a bluff and the wind was so strong, whipping in from the ocean, that you could lean directly on to it and not fall over.

at the top, i sat underneath an arch of whale jawbone, three hundred years old, until i noticed it was creaking ominously in the wind, at which point i gave up and sat down behind a rock, sheltered from the blasts. heather investigated (she is an investigator) the ruins of a tiny fifteenth century church that faced out over the north sea. only a medieval devotion to god could get rocks up that mountain.

my back to the wind, against rock, i looked out over the farmlands of east lothian. browns, greens, greys, blues, and sheep. nothing else. only one car in the distance, barreling along over the speed limit, probably driven by a sixteen year old. trees, forming edges of fields, bent out of shape by the wind.

if i turned my back on that, i saw the entire firth of forth all the way to edinburgh. if i looked slightly to the right, i saw the massive expanse of the north sea. the north sea, cliffs erupting out of foam a ways off the shore, a view of norway obscured only by the curvature of the earth.

we had a pint, cleaned the sand out of our eyes, and caught an express train back to the city.

twenty four miles out of edinburgh and it feels like the end of the world. i felt more at home there than i have in my entire time here. i keep wanting to get on the train and go back, just for an afternoon. climb halfway up the volcano and sit with the sheep, who would demonstrate their annoyance with my presence by collectively turning around and showing me their butts. looking out over nothing, actually seeing the trees again.

this is something i need to take into account.

i will move to an urban area after graduation. it will not be the place i'm meant to be, but i'll be there and make money and possibly a career. i will stay a few years and then i will leave. i will move to a house in a small town on the edge of nowhere. it will be that much better for the time spent in the city.

that much has become clear.