This story to exist

Cette histoire existe

Halfway through a summer I’m alone in Quiraing, a vast plateau surrounded by cliffs in the northern part of the Isle of Skye. The wind dives into my skin. I gaze at the shore and I hear something echoing in the far distance. A voice, almost a song. I hear it all around this island. On the hills, on the roads, in the streets…What is this voice overwhelming me, in this boundless landscape? I go around Skye, I walk across it, I get lost in it. The island’s edges are not limitations, they do not bound it. I experience time suspended, endless, it hums in my ear the eternity I feel I’m nearly grasping.If all of us have an infinity, mine is here, on this island.