Two Weeks and Five Days

Emotions are running high as the countdown continues. I got a little misty on the train yesterday as we crossed the Forth rail bridge, knowing I only had two more train trips to St Andrews in my future. Sure, I'll return to Scotland; but I'll never be a living, working student here again. And that makes me a little sad.

Things I Will Miss About Scotland (an evolving catalogue):
- The view from the art history postgraduate workroom. It is phenomenal. The school is built on a cliff overlooking the North Sea, and on a sunny day you can see the West Sands stretching gold all the way to the horizon.
- The little burst of excitement I get every time I walk out the door of my flat on Iona Street when the pavement is slick and the cars are rushing past on the cobblestones. It makes me feel vital and connected to the heart of this pulsing, foreign city.
- Walking along Howard Place, Shandwick Place, South Castle Street, Kirk Wynd, and all the countless ho-hum corners of Fife and West Lothian that sheltered me and my friends as we carved out our mutual and disparate experiences.
- Being in such close and easy proximity to masses of rich and studied culture. Titian is on my doorstep; I could pick up a rock and hit Holyrood Palace. At the root of my desire to move here was the lure of that proximity, and it hasn't let me down. I've become inured with it, and -- gasp -- find myself taking it for granted.
- I am sad I won't be here for another Scottish summer, as wet and foggy as they may be. The sun rises at 4 and sets at 11 and everyone is a little batty as a result. I had the best time knocking around the picturesque backroads of Fife in the eternal daylight.
- I will miss the uninhibited freedom of living overseas. I have made my own way here, on my own terms. That, above all things, has been my greatest accomplishment.