New Title

So I’ve finally changed the title.  I guess that means I’ll have to write about something other than Scotland.  My life is full here at Covenant.  I’m Junior Class President.  Here’s my cabinet:

Alex, Miriam, Heather, Will and I are responsible for helping the Junior class have a rockin’ time this year.  It’s gonna be good.  It’s also going to be very busy.  The other important thing in my life write now is Creative Writing Fiction, a class that will force me to write every day.  The first assignment was to write ten first sentences for stories.  Here are mine (note that when I write in the voice of a character–which is always–I use language the way that character would use it, so please don’t be offended by the use of an expletive in what follows):

1. Who are you?

 
2. “Divorced with seven children” is a very poor way to begin a personals ad.

 
3. You must know that by picking this up you are implicated, drawn into the matters of phantasms—for ghost I am and ghost you may be by the time we are finished.

 
4. Last thing I remember I was falling, but that was a long time ago judging by the blood.

 
5. Nicholas had disgusting eyes.

 
6. Chuck was a walking course description for bad-ass 101.

 
7. It takes a special kind of crazy to kill a man.

 
8. Talking to Aunt Marie is like running down an up escalator after a few too many drinks.

 
9. I’ve always wondered what could be so very wrong about milking a cat.

 
10. Keeping warm is difficult when you’re stripped naked under fluorescent lights.

 

So that’s a little slice.  I’ll probably mainly post other things I write for that class.  Read ‘em if you want.

Back in the EBP

Well, I’m back in my dorm room, aka the Eligible Bachelor’s Pad or the EBP.  It’s empty in here with out Alex, James, Colin, Peter and Drew, who will be sharing this space with me for the next two semesters, God willing.  I am here early because I am a member of Student Senate.  The summer is almost over.

So how am I different?  What would you take from me if you could make all the rain fall up, and all of the buses and trains and planes run backwards until I was back at home on May 13th?

I think you’d strip from me a full sense of my own confidence (my trust in myself) and along with it the knowledge that this is not the same as courage, which has more to do with trust in God I think.  You’d also take away many friends and burn away countless landscapes worthy of an artist’s canvas which I’ve tucked safely right behind my eyes.

You’d take valuable knowledge about how a development organization works, tons of random historical facts and a lot of solid traveling know-how.  You’d steal my well-traveled eyes and rub off the calluses on my feet.

Most tragically, if you could somehow thieve away this summer, you’d rob me of an immense well of gratitude to God for blessing me with two and a half months worth of life in Dundee.

So the Dundee Days are over.  I think this blog will continue however.  I’m always writing something, so this may provide a good way to get people to read it.  Thank you all for reading over the summer.  I’ll need to think of a new title though…I’ll get working on that.  In the mean time, God bless and Godspeed.

Skye, the second leg

a crofter’s cottage

Originally uploaded by akidabroad.

Just to feel complete, I guess I’ll tell you about the rest of my time on Skye. After the Feis an Eilein, I caught a bus into the Cullin hills to Sligachan. Here I planned to camp, but realizing that I only had enough cash either to camp or to pay for the bus to Portree, I caught the bus.

Portree is a lovely harbor town at the bottom of the Trotternish Peninsula, the northernmost wing on the “winged isle” as Skye is called. I stayed two nights in two different hostels there (which meant I never stayed under the same roof twice during my entire trip). During the day I took the bus around the rim of the Trotternish Peninsula hiking among the rock formations. It is a beautiful and rugged place, home to the last battle on the Isle of Skye, when the MacDonalds kicked the Macleods out of the peninsula.

After my second night in Portree I visited the Museum of Island Life. Pictured above is one of the thatched roof cottages that makes up the museum. It was actually a real crofter’s (small farmer working rented land) cottage that has been preserved. I signed my name in the guest book as The Great Seth Morgan I. I hope that impresses someone.

On the long journey back to Dundee that day, possibly the most wonderful part of the whole journey happened. I was riding shotgun in a mini-bus provided by the railroad because the track was out of service, when I looked up and saw a perfect rainbow stretching all the way to the ground on both sides, with every color standing out in sharp relief. It hung arched over the road, and it seemed like we would go straight under it soon, but as I stared intently at it the driver leaned over to me and said, “we’re not going to catch it, you know.”

This snapped me back to reality, but I still swear if he had left me off I could have run through the field to our right to where it touched the ground and danced in the carnival light. Perhaps then it would have taken me with it to all the rainstorms in the world, and all the quiet moments afterward.

But then again, perhaps what really happened was better. As we drove, the rainbow just stayed in front of us, going before like the pillar of cloud, a visible sign of God’s favor. That’s how I think of this summer. It’s as if God wanted to show me so much grace in such a short amount of time that in the future when the storms come and I begin to question His goodness, He’ll point me back to the rainbow summer as a talisman of His good will.