November 17th, 2013, 3pm

A few minutes after visiting this tree. I hollered to my friend “I’m in fucking Scotland!”. It was one of the few times I was happily aware of the fact, and completely enthralled in the difference and similarity of it all. The moor was empty, our boots were soaked from rambling in the hills. Joy is really independent of footwear, and far more associated with “being out there”.

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Isabelle Luna

I dance between residing and travelling, while writing, photographing, singing, playing, working.

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