Tuesday, May 27, 2008


I've just returned from a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Scotland with my dad. Complete with a sampling of fine Scotch, haggis and just enough golf to make me immediately start to fantasize about my return visit.

I love gorse. Beneath the sweet smelling veneer is a nasty snarl of angry thorns twisted by harsh circumstances and time. And it's not until you've gotten lost in it, that you truly understand it. Gorse is the perfect metaphor for the country.

Haggis? Haggis is not good for a metaphor. Haggis is good for only one thing: haggis-farts.

1 comment:

Lori Witzel said...

Fine stuff -- and isn't gorse the northern equivalent of the Texas chapparal, with its thorny and aromatic leg-shredders?

Yay for you, getting to take such a voyage!