Green is a nice colour

I sat in George Square watching the sky. The sun had been shining for more than an hour, but now the clouds were beginning to roll in. Soon it would be raining. This was not unusual in Glasgow, Scotland.

I had lived in the Glasgow area for most of eight years, and all the memories were flooding through my mind as I thought of the fact that I would soon be leaving this land I had come to call home. I had memories of summer barbecues at which we had to wear waterproof jackets, late nights talking and drinking coffee with friends, fascinating lectures and discussions at college, and long walks in the hills. I also had memories of difficult days and painful hurts. A lot had happened in eight years, and I definitely had a love-hate relationship with Glasgow. Yet, most of all, I remembered how those eight years had changed my life for the better.

In the past, my favorite colours had always been blue, red and black. I had never particularly loved green. However, Scotland had changed my whole perspective on green. Filled with rolling green hills and covered with lush, healthy green grass, it was without a doubt one of the most beautiful places in the world; especially on those rare occasions when the sun shone and brightened the incredible landscape that had been so well-watered by the country’s constant rain.

In George Square, I looked up at the 80-foot column upon which Sir Walter Scott had stood looking over the city since 1837. This square changed character during the different seasons of the year, but the famous author of Ivanhoe and Rob Roy continued to stand guard over the city… rain, shine, and more rain. In the summer, the square was often filled with concerts and other events, including the occasional political event or protest. During the annual Jazz Festival each June, various kinds of jazz could be heard rising from the square as live bands graced the venue with their talents. This was always a favorite time for me in the square. Then it would be converted into a mini-carnival at Christmastime, filled with rides, ice-skating and lights. On Valentine’s Day, a Ferris Wheel would take people high above the city and, every New Year’s Eve, the square would be filled with people for the annual Hogmanay celebration.

This day, however, was just a normal day. There were some people bustling about the square as the first drops of rain began to fall and my mind continued to drift through eight years of memories. My greatest memories, of course, were of the girl I met while in Scotland and married last year in January. Though I was soon to say goodbye, I would always carry a part of Scotland with me in Karen.

I now sit in my room in Rosarito Beach, México. Karen and I have started a new life here, and we are very happy. Great things are happening, and we’ve met a lot of wonderful people.

My memories of Scotland are always present for it was there my life changed forever in so many ways. I am so grateful for the years God gave me there. I am also grateful that I met some of the best friends anyone could ever have while in Scotland. That wonderful land will always be a part of me and, from time to time, I will feel homesick for the green land that stole a piece of my heart.

I feel at home in México now and know without a doubt that this is where God wants Karen and me to be. However, I look forward to visiting Scotland again; hopefully, one day soon. When I go, I will visit wonderful friends, walk through some green hills and most probably also find an opportunity to sit under Walter Scott’s gaze in George Square and let great memories run through the theatre of my mind. Here’s a tribute to you, dear Scotland, and to all that you’ve given me. You’ve given me Karen, good friends, life-lessons and many other things — and you’ve taught me that green is a good colour indeed.

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