Yesterday I stood upon the battlefield of Culloden.
It was a nice warm day--unseasonably warm, in fact. There was a nice breeze (as always), the panoramic view was lovely, and the cars made soft swooshing sounds as they drove by. All around me stretched a three-foot high jungle of brush, thistles, and generally tangled and prickly plants. I was standing on the spot of one of the most famous and bloody Scottish battles, surrounded by the sounds of tourists laughing. I couldn't help but thing how wrong it all was.
Where were the specters of ghostly warriors? Where was the chill fog blowing off the barrows? I wanted to close my eyes and see, overwhelming the present light atmosphere, the sight of two armies arrayed for battle. I wanted to kneel at the stone where a brave Scottish captain died and, just for a moment, mourn the keening loss of that life. I wanted to be jolted out of my apathy, to feel—what? anything else: horror, grief, the weight of history pressing upon me.
Even as I went through the motions of a sightseer (snap a picture; pause, read a signpost; meander on), I wanted my cold, selfish heart to break with the tragedy of this place. Or maybe even that was selfish. Maybe all I really wanted was to have an experience; to feel the ghostly fingers of the past brush my shoulder for a moment; giving me a vision, setting me apart.
Yesterday I stood upon the battlefield of Culloden, and it failed to touch my spirit. I walked off the field, excited at the prospect of a gift shop.
About Me
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- Lee Anne
- This blog is not intended to be a complete or comprehensive chronicle of my life. Instead, my purpose is to provide a light-hearted and hopefully humorous retelling of certain moments that might be of interest to the readers who take a moment to peruse this blog. This is why I will avoid serious issues or topics; I believe in sharing deep issues face-to-face. For another thing, I try to avoid blogging too much about other people; it is not my prerogative to share their stories. This is why it is a very me-oriented blog; not because I like talking about myself (well, not completely) but because I feel authorized to tell only my own story (immediate family is always fair game). So, if my blog comes across as silly, wacky, or melodramatic—it's supposed to be that way. If you want to hear about my problems, issues, or breakdowns, come talk to me in person (jk). As a reader, feel free to correct me (or my spelling), laugh at me, but please try to take everything in good humor. I am so grateful to have a blog audience, because 21 years of life has taught me that I cannot keep a journal without an audience. Because of this, the more comments you leave, the more I'll write.