My hope for any trip is that I return home with altered eyes. How has Scotland altered them? 

It’s made me an even more confirmed walker — or perhaps I should say hiker — than I was before. The boots I considered not bringing were just about the only footwear I wore. So many of Scotland’s riches are best seen on foot. We covered as many of them as we could, given the miles not just on the boots but on the old bod. 

There was the antiquity. The Neolithic stones of Orkney, the Roman ruins in the Border Lands. The ancient stones of Edinburgh Castle. All of them put us in our place, which is puny.

And then there were the sights, sounds, sensibilities of any European country. Traffic is calmer, people not as stressed. American life is a high-octane, jangly affair these days. I’m thankful we could dip our toes into calmer waters for a few weeks. 

I’m sure there will be more observations to come, but these are few to start …

(A road beckons on the Isle of Skye)