When the eyes come upon a scene that causes the heart to fill with joy and perfect calm, we experience pure beauty, an aesthetic and bursting rush of love and awe that dizzies the senses.
I feasted my eyes on such a scene last Sunday on the Isle of Mull in bonnie Scotland.
The Isle of Mull takes more than a wee bit of effort to visit–driving four hours on a fast and twisting road, straining at each curve, hoping another car will not lurch around the corner in your lane, and arriving in the charming harbor town of Oban to board a massive ferry.
On the Isle of Mull, most of the roads are single-track. One lane with little turnouts that meanders on for miles, just the way to find a people-less land full of innocent animals whose world is green and lush.
There, such symbols of innocence, the lambs, frolicked freely among the rich grasses and woolly lasses that are their mothers.
I do not eat lamb and on this day, one in which the bounty of the environs humbled my spirits, I am proud to say that I could wholly enjoy these sweet little creatures without any personal regret.
Our footsteps were almost silent, save for the swishing of the grasses and an occasional step into the recesses of a muddy bog. The Scottish mist, almost haunting, moved in as we approached the sea. Around the corner of a rock-outcropping came we–right into a small herd of Highland cattle!
They were very accommodating, moving off the trail for us to pass by.
I can still hear their precise shearing of the grass, their chewing, their movement onto higher ground. Gentle bovine giants, these sweet cattle.
The experience is still with me, sharing a morning with such lovely living things, spending time in silence, and welling up in contemplation of the grand scheme of it all.
Scotland is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever experienced.