Fife

Long time no see. I am sorry. University commitments - standard excuse, yet the truth. I will be back posting more regularly, until then I hope you enjoy this video a friend of mine made.

It is about beauty. It is about warming my heart. It is about making me feel closer to God than anything else this week. It is about creation. It is about my Scottish home. It is about enjoying the small things in life. It is about getting out there. It is about feeling free. It is about life.

A Quarter of A Century

I turned 25 last week and it was a wonderfully strange day. Mumford and Sons' album came out and they announced touring the UK this winter, my whole family came to visit me and my actual birthday was just the pinnacle of a joyous birthday weekend, I had dinner at a very fancy seafood restaurant, and for dessert I threw an ice-cream party where people dressed up beautifully to the theme "A Quarter of A Century". I was showered in love, affection, and original presents.

Turning 25 was a sort of big deal for me - ten years ago, I considered 25 the age when adulthood was not just a vague imagination but a reality of life. I thought of myself as married with children and a successful career. I thought of myself as a proper adult - and any failure of fulfilling this life plan would have seemed like a major disappointment. Truth is, though, despite the fact that my life couldn't be any different from that imagination, I am - in the grand scheme of things - perfectly content and would want my life to be any different. We change, we adjust and reality is - 25 is only a quarter of a lifetime after all, with plenty of time to achieve this decades' aspirations.

The Auction House

We have an auction house in our tiny little town. I have heard much about it: one of my friends purchased a wonderful white wardrobe, the other an old-school bicycle, and even our student newspaper dedicated half a page to the institution. Yet, despite having lived here for three years now, I have never been there myself. Over the years I not only felt a nagging fear of missing out on one of those special "auction-house"-experiences that become a synonym for your student life, but lately the pressing need of owning a working bicycle made it very clear that a visit can no longer be postponed.

So, my summer flatmate and I set out to find the old warehouse where the auctions are to be held. Little did we know that we would spend the next hour or so looking at the most random and obscure items one could imagine: from smelly refrigerators, real wood furniture and lawnmowers, to African masks, beautiful tea sets, and extravagant jewellery - there is nothing that cannot be found. The heart of any modern day collector would surely skip a beat from all the excitement. At least mine did when I saw the purple women's bike that I placed my bid on. Fingers crossed it will be mine soon.

Fair

This summer, for the first time since I started university, I am not spending my entire holidays away from the seaside village I call home during term time but instead I decided to go back there for a good chunk of the summer. This experience has been bizarre. The town I am used to - a place buzzing with the excitement of students - has been replaced by its twin, attempting to charm the sluggishly slow-moving tourists strolling along the streets with all kinds of attractions: Hop-on/Hop-off tour buses that seem vaguely out of place, cafés and pubs with seating areas outside where yet another afternoon can be spend absorbing the rays of sunlight and - as if the beautiful beaches, historical buildings and cute streets were not enough - a town fair with proper rides, occupying two of the three main streets.

Of course my flatmate for the summer and I had to go - the novelty and excitement just got a hold of us: We screamed our heads off while on the rides, ate our body weights in fair food and - just like the tourists - we strolled along the streets enjoying the general atmosphere.

 

Naturally Fertilized Fields

Last night friends of mine and I decided to get Fish and Chips for supper. Since the best Chippy in the country happens to be only an half-an-hour drive away from where we live, we did not need long to decide where to go. As we were driving along the coast - our faces kissed by the last rays of sunlight, windows rolled down feeling the wind rushing by, the air infused by the smell of naturally fertilized fields, and Coldplay's "Life in Technicolor" blasting on the stereo - it seemed like time had stopped for one brief but perfect moment. My heart felt content, free and grateful.

We ate with our fingers, we talked about the summer and future, we laughed at silly jokes, we admired the insanely beautiful sunset, and as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, we lost ourselves in the vastness of the night sky - savoring the moment at all times. It was glorious.

P.S. We even saw a couple of dolphins. Is this real life?!