I have either been fortunate enough to experience the places I have,
or I have been stupid enough to pay little to no attention to the
state of my bank account. This results in me thinking its perfectly
okay to take off to a foreign country or a city I have not stepped
foot in yet. Depending on the day, I have differing opinions on my
travels. Don't get me wrong, they are all good. I regret none of
them. Though, my dwindling bank account does cause for some nerves.
During whirlwinds of not enough sleep, too much drinking, too much
caffeine, and lots of laughter, I started down this journey of
wanderlust. I slept in beds that were more like pallets and drank
wine on the rooftops of Rome. I stood on the top of the Eiffel Tower
at midnight and got caught in the Scottish rain. When thinking back
on the things I have seen it feels a little surreal. As I try to
recall moments and memories, I see it as more of a story. It was
something that happened to somebody else. The girl who gets on these
planes is someone different than I am now.
Nostalgia done! Fin!
It is Travel Tuesday! I don't use exclamation marks causally so you
know to take me serious when you see one.
In a little out of the way field on the outskirts of Scotland, I
stepped foot inside my first stone circle, or, as my Irish whimsy
demands, a fairy circle. While others that I had joined up with
during these days were off canoeing, a few of us decided to take off
and explore the country side. As we wound our way up a gravel path,
lined with trees that were reaching towards the cloudy and gray
heavens, we stumbled upon an open field with stones scattered about.
As we approached it became apparent that this was one of the stone
circles that is so prolific in the British Isle's. We had seen
Stonehenge by now but there was something about this little circle
here that gave us more pause. Maybe it was because no one was around
or maybe it was because it wasn't fenced off from tourists.
We made our way towards it, our clothes becoming soaked with the dew
and rain that comes hand in hand with this country. Being who I am,
my creative brain took hold and as we trudged through the wet grass,
I began weaving the tales of fairy circles. It is said you shouldn't
go in one without being invited. Fairies, after all, are mischievous
little creatures that are bound to attack if you piss them off. Or
so I've been told. I told my companions how you should never step
inside a stone circle or else you can expect dire consequences.
Then, ignoring my own advice, I jumped right in. And when I say
jumped, I do mean that I ran towards the circle itself and jumped
inside. I hugged these rocks. I crossed in and out of the circle
itself. I danced in honor of the small little girl I was was.
The next day, I fell and busted open my knee and came down with the
flu.
Lesson learned.
Before the temperature though and before I walked with a limp for a
good couple of days, a man who had been near the circle began
spinning the legend that apparently surrounds these stones. It was
said that if the stones themselves were counted, you'd never get the
same number twice. It was like a thought bubble appeared in all of
our heads at once. Challenge accepted, sir!
We counted those rocks numerous times and it wasn't until our seventh
or eighth try that we got a consisted number. 49. There are 49
rocks there. Believe me, our brains hurt from the amount of times we
double checked that.
I'm interested to go back one day and see if that number still holds
. I like to imagine that the little old man is still there, having
not aged a day, telling all the people who stumble upon this circle
the legend of the stone numbers. He probably laughs as girls like me
tempt fate and jump inside the circle without heeding any sort of
warning. And while my knee still hurts a bit from that fall, it is
one of my fondest memories. I should have known better than to mess
with the Scottish fairies. Them Scot's don't like us Irish that
much.
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