LAMENT. To truly be true to yourself, it's essential to have a clear understanding of who you are. This notion became particularly clear to me during a memorable trip to the Scottish Highlands a few years back. My wife and I decided to spend our wedding anniversary in a special place that held significant meaning for both of us. We returned to the grand hotel where we had said our vows twenty years prior. This hotel is not just a building it is a treasure trove of memories for us. Each corner seems to whisper stories of romantic dinners, where we shared sumptuous meals and made heartfelt toasts long, deep conversations that lasted for hours, filled with dreams and laughter that still echoes within those nostalgic walls. I was especially motivated to pick this particular location because of my family ties to a Scottish clan. The thought of wandering through the same landscapes where my ancestors once walked stirred something profound within me. Those rolling hills and rugged terrains carry an essence that speaks to my heritage, creating an irresistible pull to explore the paths that my forebears might have trodden centuries ago. As we strolled hand in hand, surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of the Highlands, I felt a deep connection to my roots. It was a powerful reminder of who I am, where I come from, and why it is so important to stay true to oneself. One crisp morning, the kind where the air feels fresh and invigorating, I set off on my own adventure into the mountains. The sunlight filtered gently through the vibrant green leaves, creating a lovely dappled pattern on the ground. My wife chose to stay behind, relishing a leisurely breakfast filled with the scents of toast and coffee. Meanwhile, I was eager for the highland air and the sweeping views that are unique to the enchanting Scottish hills. As I climbed higher, the exhilaration of being surrounded by nature mixed with a deep sense of tranquillity. Each step I took made me more aware of the rich layer of history that surrounded me, a history told by the ancient rocks and the whispers of the wind. However, just as I reached a spectacular viewpoint that took my breath away, the weather shifted unexpectedly. The sky, which had seemed so clear just moments before, rapidly darkened. Rain came tumbling down the mountainside like a thick blanket, enveloping me in a sudden deluge. One moment I was lost in the beauty of the landscape, gazing out at rolling hills and valleys the next, visibility shrank to just a few feet. The scene was eerily beautiful, with the rain creating a mist that made everything appear surreal, yet it left me feeling disoriented and unsure of my surroundings. Rather than turning back, I felt an urge to continue my walk, seeking refuge from the storm. As I made my way through the rain-soaked terrain, I stumbled upon a large, gnarled old oak tree. It stood there like a guardian of the forest, having seen better days but still holding firm against the elements. It looked like the perfect spot to huddle and wait out the downpour, offering some shelter from the relentless rain. As I approached the tree, a brief flash of light caught my attention, something glinting on the ground. My curiosity took over, and I bent down to see what it was. To my surprise, I found a ring, its surface tarnished and worn by the passage of time, yet still undeniably beautiful. A chill ran through me—not from the cold, but from the sense of mystery that enveloped this small piece of metal. It felt as if this ring had a story to tell, a piece of someone's past that had somehow managed to cross paths with my present. After the rain finally began to ease, allowing the rugged terrain to emerge once more, I carefully pocketed the ring. With a mix of excitement and wonder, I started my descent down the mountain, feeling as if I had just experienced a slice of history waiting to be uncovered. After returning to the hotel, I felt a strong urge to do the right thing. I came across a lovely piece of jewellery that didn't belong to me, and even though I had no idea who it might have belonged to, I knew I couldn't just keep it. It seemed only fair to hand it over to the reception desk. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, it belonged to another guest who shared my love for adventure and exploration. I imagined someone else who might be searching for it, feeling anxious and disappointed. I didn't think too much about it after that moment. I felt a sense of relief and satisfaction, knowing that I might have saved someone from returning home feeling upset and wondering where their special piece of jewellery had gone. As the day approached when we would check out of the hotel and start our long journey back home, we were packing our bags and getting ready to leave. Suddenly, there was a knock on our hotel room door. I opened it, and to my absolute astonishment, I found myself face to face with a jeweller and his wife. Their eyes were wide with disbelief as they stood before me, holding the very ring that I had found. At that moment, I was completely caught off guard. I had half-expected them to embrace me and shower me with thanks for doing the right thing. Instead, I was met with a surprise that I couldn't have predicted. The joy of returning the lost item was about to become a whole new experience in ways I hadn't imagined. The couple shared an astonishing story about a unique ring that they had found. This was not just any ordinary piece of jewellery it was over four hundred years old and carried a significant piece of history. The ring originally belonged to a clansman who had been part of the infamous Battle of Culloden, a conflict that had deep and lasting effects on Scotland. Their account revealed that, during the chaos of the battle, this particular clansman had to make a quick decision to flee from the oncoming danger of English soldiers. In his haste, he carefully hid the ring beneath a large tree, hoping that after the fight, when things calmed down, he could come back and retrieve it along with his other belongings. The man was terrified for his life and wanted to protect his treasures, believing that there might still be a chance to return to them one day when the threat had passed. Unfortunately, fate was not kind to him. The man was unable to return because the English had strict orders to take no prisoners. This meant that the ring, along with the clansman's hopes and dreams of returning to his former life, remained hidden beneath the tree, locked away and forgotten as the years went by. It lay there, buried in layers of history, waiting silently until my innocent curiosity led me to accidentally unearth it while shifting the earth around the tree's base. As I picked up the ring, a whirlwind of thoughts began to fill my mind. Was it just a coincidence that I stumbled upon this piece of jewellery? Or could it be something deeper, something that felt like destiny? It seemed as if the universe had brought our paths together in a peculiar yet beautiful manner. This chance encounter felt like a connection to a sad chapter in Scottish history, a part of the past that had long been hidden and needed to be brought back to life. The jeweller shared stories of how this ring had nearly been lost forever, buried in the mists of time, unseen and forgotten. As I listened, I felt a heavy weight settle on me, a mix of awe and responsibility. I realised that I had to return the ring—not just in a symbolic sense, but truly, exactly where it had rested for so many centuries. The thought of keeping it felt wrong. I was merely a visitor in this place I didn't belong to its history. The ring had a rightful home, lying beneath that rock, a silent witness to the bravery and struggles of my ancestors. It felt right to return it, to honour its story and the lives that had intertwined with it. This wasn't just a piece of jewellery it was a link to a past that deserved to be remembered. I decided to give the ring back, not because I felt I had to, but as a way to honour the lives that were connected to that beautiful piece of jewellery. It felt right for the ring to find its way back to its hidden resting place, away from the prying eyes of the outside world. After all, it had so much history tied to it, stories waiting to be uncovered by anyone with a sense of adventure. I imagined someone else walking down that same path in the future, perhaps unaware of the treasure lying just beneath the surface, ready to be discovered. This little piece of history deserved to be kept safe until that moment came when another curious person would find it and start to unravel the tales woven into its past. Returning to the mountains, I paused at the same spot where I had once encountered a magnificent oak tree. The sky was dark and heavy with storm clouds, and I found myself standing in front of this ancient tree during a fierce thunderstorm. I was soaked to the skin from the pouring rain, yet strangely, I couldn't feel it drenching me. The cold drops seemed to pass over me, and at that moment, I was completely numb to the world around me. The tree had somehow transported me to a different place, a world where everything else faded away. Most people, faced with such a relentless downpour, would have looked for shelter, seeking refuge from the storm. But I felt an unexplainable pull to remain right where I was. It seemed vital for me to stand there and show respect to this glorious oak that had weathered countless storms long before I was born and would continue to stand long after I was gone. So, I stood there for what felt like hours, maybe two, completely transfixed by the sight of this tree. I marvelled at its strength and presence, feeling small in comparison. The oak had witnessed generations, and in its silence, it held secrets and stories that I could only imagine. Amid the storm, I began to understand something profound. This tree was like a storybook, filled with knowledge and history that I could never fully grasp. I felt like a baby, cradled in the arms of this solid oak, overwhelmed by its wisdom. The experience was humbling. As the rain continued to fall around me, I found myself kneeling on the ground. With care and reverence, I laid the wedding ring back at the foot of the oak. At that moment, I felt a wave of closure wash over me as if the act of returning the ring was a way of honouring not just the tree, but also the love story it had witnessed. The rain seemed to intensify as if acknowledging my act of remembrance, and in that fleeting moment, I realised I was part of something much larger than myself. It was a connection that spanned centuries, a whisper of fate that tied me to a deeper history. A wedding ring is not just a piece of jewellery; it is sacred, symbolising an eternal bond between two people. On that fateful day when William gave the ring to Agnes Stewart beneath the boughs of this big, old oak tree, it set into motion a story that would never truly end. The love shared under that tree was timeless, and in my small way, I had joined that ongoing tale, forever linked to the past and the promise of love. As the days slip swiftly into the embrace of autumn and winter, I find myself reflecting on the ephemeral nature of time and its transformative power on both the seasons and the people who experience them. One serene afternoon, I settled into our back garden, the sun casting a gentle warmth on my skin, and gazed up at the sky. What struck me was its extraordinary hue—a deep, vibrant blue that seemed to cradle the world. It was a blue I had never truly noticed before, one that felt rich with promise and possibility. In that moment of stillness, a wave of realization washed over me: this was my life, unfolding right here and now. I felt a profound gratitude for simply being alive, for the air filling my lungs, for the sunlight warming my face. I thought back on my journey, recognizing that while life could have presented me with simpler paths, the experiences I have chosen have shaped me into who I am today. Each day is a canvas painted with unique colours and textures, and even the smallest joys—like the rustling of leaves or the distant laughter of children—are treasures waiting to be discovered. In our fast-paced world, it's far too easy to overlook these gifts. We often take for granted the act of breathing, the beauty of a blooming flower, or the laughter shared with a loved one. The hurried lifestyle we inhabit can dull our senses, making us blind to the natural wonders that surround us. But if you take a moment to step away from the relentless rush, to slow down and breathe in the world around you, you'll find an abundance of beauty that is simply waiting to be appreciated. As I stood there, seemingly motionless while the world whirled around me, I realized that my ability to savour the azure sky above was a luxury few others could afford in their frantic chase for tomorrow. It's in these quiet moments that I feel truly alive, able to drink in the serenity that the present offers. So, I invite you—to take a breath, pause, and soak in the beauty that surrounds you. You might just find that the world is bursting with rewards you never noticed before, waiting for you to embrace them.