What can be said about a place so stunning that words don’t really make sense? A place rough and soft—full of contradictions that work together so perfectly that you wonder why everything isn’t done in opposites. Scotland, you have reminded me that contradictions can be beautiful. Shown me things that grow slowly, over rocks and in fog and mist, with the freedom to just be... are impressive and inspire awe. A garden will always be its own kind of beauty, but I want to be the kind of beautiful that carves a path down ancient stony hills, that blooms in bright colors no matter how shallow the soil, that rolls toward the sea and drops off into deep navy waters. I want to be rough and wild. Thanks for the reminder that I can be those things or none of those things and I will still be beautiful. as always... and forever... SCOTLAND.