My Heart Is in The Highlands

 

On cold, damp October afternoons

My heart is in the mountains

In the woods

Soaking in the stillness and the overcast cloudy sky

The smell of the wet woods and leaves

The occasional crow, echoing in the distance

The amber, pine needle carpeted forest floor, which absorbs the sound of my footsteps

The pine trees, tall, dark and slender, with all but the very top branches dead and bare of needles

A group of deer a short distance away, who feel safe to move around on a wet, misty day

My cozy winter coat, with pockets to warm my chilled hands

The sight of my condensated breath in front of me

A rotten, slippery, fallen log, which gives way and breaks apart - *THUD* - under the weight of my step

The sight of a neighboring mountain, who's trees display a brilliant array of color

The nearby rustle of a squirrel in a tree

The clearing of open fields, green with clover

The cold damp setting in

Hiking down the mountain, from whence I came, giving in to gravity's pull and hiking briskly

Slipping and stumbling on wet leaves and rocks and I go down

Down

Finally reaching the bottom of the hill

Stepping onto the winding road, and hearing the crunch of my steps once again

Gazing down the road, towards the river

Turning

Just a few paces down the grey, gritty path

Turn to step through the entry in the old wooden fence

Up the ramp

 

The clunk of my boots on the porch

Quickly opening the screen door

Bursting through the front door

In the warm house

Sitting down in the living room

On a stuffed arm-chair

Boots off.

Coat hung.

To the kitchen!

Time for a mug of hot cocoa
 

 

~

 

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth ;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains, high-cover'd with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.

 

~Robert Burns