Continuing from where I left off in my previous blog post, I do recall that I need to tell you about being attacked in this jungle that I now call home. But then, my overtalkative brain kicked into high gear and I found myself googling ‘what is a jungle?’ and ‘is a jungle always a forest?’ The descriptions from these left me with more questions. But, ignoring that rabbit hole, let’s just say that I live on the cusp of the untamed Scottish outdoors!
When friends see pictures of the scenery from where I live the usual comment is that ‘ooooh, it looks like a movie setting or a postcard!” And honestly, yes it does. That was the first thought that I also had when I started exploring the countryside of the Highlands. But, I quickly found out that what may seem idyllic from a car, or experienced briefly over a couple of days, always has its horrifically monstrous side.
The first summer I was here (in the Highlands , but not in my current location) was a really hot summer. It barely rained for weeks and I was comfortable outdoors in t-shirts and shorts. Now, you may think that this is normal and, in fact, usual. But no, not for me it isn’t. It has to be really warm for me to be comfortable in that summer gear as I have lived many, many, many long years in hot climates.
Anyway, that summer, as one does when it’s hot and beautifully sunshiny outside, I went exploring. I needed to find a good running route from my new accommodation. So off I went with powerful and fearless strides.
Those strides took me across a field, through a gate, across another field and onto a small but perfectly paved one lane road. Fabulous! There were field and trees surrounding me, a tractor doing something-or-the-other in a field in the distance and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a grey shadow approaching me, getting bigger and bigger. Turning, I froze for a second as I came almost face to face with a huge brown beast. It had this look in its eye that I can barely put into words. It was an evaluating stare that also seemed to dare me to look away.
Look away it seemed to screech silently… Go on, look away and see what happens!
You’d better believe I did not look away quite at that moment. I did, however, start moving backwards, away from the relentless breathing huff of the beast that I was determined would not become my enemy.
Backwards was not back in the direction from which I had come. Oh no! Backwards in this instance was following the road, exploring more of the unknown and taking me away from home and more into the wild. But hey, it was away from the huge being that could crush me within a minute! I took it and off I went, walking briskly backwards making sure the massive Scottish cow wasn’t following me, before I turned around and continued on my way.
Breathe woman, breathe! Right foot, left foot, breathe!
Having calmed myself down from my near death experience, my eyes suddenly took in the breathtaking view of a river cutting through beautiful fields and rolling hills. The river itself flowed around a little island that was totally covered in blue flowers. What a beautiful sight! I could almost feel that I was in a western movie claiming my homestead land.
I got home that evening happy and fulfilled, a little sweaty, and most definitely in need of a shower.
It was some days later that I realized I had actually been attacked by a Highland beast. You see, the dangerous nasties up here aren’t the size of lions or tigers. Oh no. They’re tiny, miniscule things. That’s how Scotland gets you. There’s so much that’s big and beautiful and lovely up here that you don’t think to pay attention to the tiny things around you. And on this occasion, one type of tiny thing had attacked me leaving me with an expanding ring of blue on my leg. Yep, I had a tick bite! Gross. Nasty. Totally ick and OMG I had to go to the hospital!
Okay, so let’s move on to my second summer up here. This time I was in my present location, still in the Highlands.
I thought summer in this area would be much like my previous one. Hot, beautiful and fairly civilized in terms of breeze and rain. No. That’s all I have to say to that idea. Just no.
Civilized? Pfft!
It was a fairly decent summer. I don’t recall it being super wet or super-hot. It was fine. I was able to go running in my usual summer gear, even if I didn’t just hang around or go lounging in anything shorter than full-length jogging bottoms. But I’d take what I could in this land of wind. So, on the days when the wind was almost nonexistent I’d be super excited to put on the shorts and tee and go for a run in ‘civilized’ weather.
You know what they say about the quiet before the storm? Yeah. Well up here the beasts come out when it’s all quiet and calm like that.
So in this most beautiful of a scenic place the monsters not only come out of the ground (ticks) but they’re also airborne. They are on you before you notice and the truly horrific thing is that they track you. You can’t outrun them. Once they’ve got their lock on you that’s it. Game over. You will be attacked and you will come out of it in a great deal of pain and trauma… you know, once you make it out alive.
I’m not joking. I was attacked.
I can still feel the pain of the fang piercing deep into my shoulder. I can feel the presence of the bites all over my neck and head. Scotland harbours beasts. No wonder the freaking SAS is full of Scotsmen! These guys are born and bred in a predatory environment. The monsters are everywhere! You don’t believe me? Well you go and stand outside, breathing (you know so you stay alive) and wait for the midges and horseflies (aka Cleggs) to attack you. The Clegg will stab you through layers upon layers of clothes. And you will not get away from them on your own, unless you stop breathing. It’s the stuff of nightmares and horror movies.
Yeah, come to Scotland they said. It’s beautiful and serene, they said! Heh.
Well, I know it’s a long post and I really should stop there but I’ve got two more stories that will bring us up to this current summer. I’ll try to make it snappy.
Last week I got attacked. I had taken all the usual precautions while going out for a walk onto the moor and I was happily walking home when it happened. I was clobbered on the face and I couldn’t see. At first I thought it was one beast, but when I managed to prise open my eyes after the shock and sheer fright of the wallop, the blurry shape still on me became clearer as two beasts. Two, thumb-long flying insect things had collided with my face – my glasses in fact – and were still there obscuring my vision, as they engaged in their mating warfare. Oh yes! I had now been involved in the mating ritual of some unknown flying monsters that weren’t exactly tiny. Gross. Traumatizing. Gah.
Let’s fast forward to this morning. You’d think I’d be well versed in the monster game by now, right? No. I walked right into a trap today and part of me got chewed and spat out. No joke. Let me set the scene for you.
We needed another blue bin. With the recycling pick-up happening on a three week rotation now, instead of a two week one (yay, thanks budget cuts!!) just one mixed recycling bin wasn’t working for the house. We’d tried our best but we had finally made the call to request a second blue bin. Happily, today, after hearing a vehicle stop in front of the house, I discovered that our bin was being dropped off. As the driver was carefully affixing an instructional sticker to the bin, I thought I’d be personable and express my gratitude for this service in a pleasant and lighthearted manner.
“Oh thank you so much! This is the best gift I’ve had for a while!”
I thought I’d said a nice thing. I mean, with the cooking for the house, and cans of food for the dogs along with all the junk mail, our blue bin gets stuffed very quickly. Luckily mom lives obliquely opposite us, across the street, because on the third week of the recycling collection period, I can often be seen glamorously trotting with a large bag of recycling to my mom’s bin. Heavens help me if it’s raining because then I’m super glamorously traipsing with sodden everything – sodden recycling, sodden clothes and most definitely a sodden expression. So, this extra blue bin would actually make a world of a difference to me.
Well, this was when it struck. It creeped up on me. I truly didn’t see it coming until it I was clobbered.
“Och well… sounds like you need to get out more!”
Yep. I was struck by the invisible biting humour of the Highland folk.
It was funny, I know. I did find myself smiling and then breaking out into a grin, most unwillingly. But still. What horror! What a scar I will carry with me now as my whole civilized existence is threatened all around me with threats creeping from the ground, the air, tracking me and coming at me as invisible barbs.
Yes, come to Scotland they said. Come to the Highlands. Eh heh.
Come nah! Yep, I’m talking to you! I dare you. Can you hack it? It’s Savage!
