Arthur’s Seat

The path to Arthur’s Seat was narrow and made up of stepping stones that were a beautiful earth and orange color. I climbed every single one of those steps with determination and ease…
I didn’t know how much I missed hills and mountains until I found myself glancing back at the path and at Edinburgh behind me … I knew I was meant for higher altitudes as step followed step and my shoes gathered mud and my hands grasped rocks and grass. It was cold, but the exercise and the sun kept me warm. I went higher and higher on both feet, on all fours, without stopping. I felt my best.
At one point … I stopped and turned around. The other hills rested before me; people in their rainbows of clothes were scattered all over them, and the paths looked like a child’s finger tracings on wet sand – swirling, deep, haphazard.
I turned back around and kept climbing. I could feel the wind picking up the closer I got to the top. Eventually, the stones gave way to mud and the mud gave way to a grassy hill that ended in the greenest, most beautiful clearing I’ve ever seen. It stretched on and on and the wind blew with the strength of a god and all of Edinburgh looked like so many miniatures clustered before the sea.