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Diary Of A Weekend

words and photography by Emilie Van Camp

essay/

AUGUST 2015 | WEEKENDS

 

“And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.” 


― Sylvia Plath

 

It was early morning when the thin space between the window and the curtain let the first emerging ray of sunlight pass through, as a new day began. To its warmth my eyes opened, still half asleep I rolled over searching for his calming face, and smiled.

Suddenly I realised, it was the last weekend of our life here and tears started to fall. We were moving down to London at the end of the weekend after living in the Scottish Highlands for ten incredible and awe-inspiring months. I snuggled back into the sheets and while reflecting on our experiences in this amazing part of the world, two things came up to my mind. One, how time is the common thread of our existence, and how precious it is as it always passes by too fast without us being able to control it.  Secondly, how weekends are a true moment of solace where our life is totally ours for a brief instant, away from the dense pace of our everyday routine. How weekends have that powerful effect on us as we continue to long for them the minute they are gone. And for that reason only, weekends should always be a celebration. A celebration of life, of all the little things that make us happy, the things that we do not always have the time to appreciate. Weekends are there to fill our hearts with moments of levity and harmony. We always wish they would last another day or two, but with this even more reason to make them special and memorable.

That morning, I got up, opened the curtains and to my surprise, the morning brought about snow that had covered the landscape with her majestic white cape. One of my biggest fears from our sudden departure was missing the snow. Living in a country where nature is generously offering her best-kept secrets and witnessing its landscapes change colours through the different seasons is a real gift. I do not know why, but the snow fills my heart with a peculiar feeling. It is pure, minimal, white, cold, and magical. It transports my soul to a different place within a minute and I did not want to lose any second of it. It was offering us a unique spectacle and we had to honour it, as if nature wanted to grant us our last wish before leaving our beloved home.

Life can often be uncertain and this is why we should enjoy every single moment that is placed in front of us. One way of actually doing so is making sure we live these brief sacred moments that belong entirely to us -to the fullest.

We grabbed a thermos full of tea, jumped into the car and drove for hours to our favourite Glenn. We discovered this unspoiled area not long before and which left us completely speechless. When we finally arrived, we nearly missed the turn as we barely recognised the place. We stopped, got out of the car, filled our lungs with the purest of airs and smiled. We climbed higher and higher until we reached the summit to admire the view that was offered to us. We both felt alive and thankful to witness pure beauty with snowflakes dancing all around the sky above us. It was strange to think how a few weeks before the landscape was full of vibrant oranges and red hues with dense vegetation.

We stood silent for a few minutes, taking it all in and filling our heart and head with this precious moment. We both knew that we would never forget this land and what it had shared with us.

Everything was peaceful. Everything was perfect.

We stayed there until our bodies could not take it any longer.

We were sad, but we were happy.
We were cold, but we were warm.
We were scared, but we were serene.
We were melancholic, but we were grateful.

Life was beautiful. Life was a gift to behold.

That day I knew my life would change drastically, not for better and not for worse but would simply be different.