Take your time.
There is nowhere you need to be.
For now.
There is only this path.
Beneath your feet.
And the lock beside you.
Quiet air of a Scottish evening.
There is a mist that has settled over the highland mountains as dusk approaches.
Everything gently softened.
Take a slow breath of the cool air.
And as you breathe out.
Let the day begin to loosen its hold.
There is nothing you need to remember here.
Nothing you need to prepare for.
Just a word.
One quiet step and another.
Perhaps you hear the gentle sound of your footsteps.
The gentle movement.
Of the water,
Of the lock against the shore.
Gentle winds dancing through the grass.
Somewhere in the distance,
A bird calls.
The mist begins to thicken.
As the evening darkens.
The air feels cooler against your face.
And thanks.
You feel the first droplets of rain.
Just a few.
Soft drops falling through the mist.
That you feel no sense of hurry.
Because not far ahead.
You know there is somewhere warm.
A place waiting for you.
A place with ancient stone walls.
Of five.
Food and a comfortable bed.
Through the myth.
You can see the warming light.
The golden glow against the grey.
The castle stands above the lot.
Windows glowing softly in the evening darkness.
And with this warm light.
You breathe a little more deeply.
You are nearly home.
The rain falls a little more steadily now.
As the path curves gently upwards.
The castle is before you.
Ancient stone.
Darkened by rain.
Moss gathered.
Between stone blocks.
Warm light spilling from shining windows.
You you reach the great wooden door.
And for a moment.
You simply stand beneath the shelter of the stone archway.
Listening to the rain.
You And then.
The door quietly opens.
Warmth reaches you.
The scent of wood smoke.
Something cooking nearby.
And as you step inside.
The soft golden light of the castle surrounds you.
The door closes behind you.
The rain,
Still hard,
Is now distant.
Muted by thick walls.
You take off your wet coat and leave your walking boots by the door.
For the first time today.
There is absolutely nothing you need to do.
You have.
Arrive.
Safe inside.
Cool.
Thrive.
Sheltered from the weather.
A warm bath has been prepared for you.
You make your way slowly through the quiet castle.
The corridors are warm with firelight.
Candle's flicker.
The old stone walls hold the warmth.
You enter a peaceful room.
And there,
Waiting for you.
Is a sumptuous deep bath filled with steaming water.
And dancing with beautiful aromas.
You take your time to step into the water.
Allowing the heat to surround you.
The muscles of your feet soften and settle in the warmth.
Keep your legs relaxed.
The muscles of your back and shoulders release.
Your arms and hands.
The little muscles of your face and jaw.
All of them.
Can let go.
Outside,
The rain continues.
Inside.
There is warmth and water.
You can stay here for as long as you like.
There is no schedule tonight.
No expectations,
No tasks,
Just warmth.
And quiet the sound.
The evening dropping into night.
Beyond the windows.
Let yourself become.
Little heavier a little quieter.
A little more at ease.
When you are ready,
You leave the bath and wrap yourself.
And the coziest of warm clothing.
And make your way downstairs.
The night has settled in.
And starlight can be seen outside the window.
Somewhere ahead.
You hear the gentle crackle.
Of a half fire.
There is a simple meal waiting for you.
Something warm.
Something nourishing.
Something that tastes even better.
Because you happen walking in the cool air.
A bowl of something delicious.
Fresh bread.
In a warm drink.
Something that has taken love and time to brew.
You sit and eat slowly.
Savouring.
There is no need to hurry.
The fire burns merrily nearby in the hearth.
The old castle seems to settle around new.
You how good it feels.
Be well.
To be fed.
To be still.
You you you Sometimes rest begins.
With the very simplest of things.
More.
Soon.
Shelter.
A little quiet.
And permission to stop.
When your meal is finished.
You take your drink.
And find the most comfortable chair.
Deep and soft beside the fire.
We settle in.
Your feet are warm.
Your body is heavy.
The fire glows in front of you.
To place your drink.
Upon a table beside you.
Who see there is a book waiting upon it.
You pick it up.
And open it somewhere in the middle.
To begin to read.
You don't need to remember the words.
You don't even need to follow the story.
Who can simply enjoy the feeling of holding the book.
Warmth of the fire.
The sound of the rain.
You every now and then.
You look up from the page.
The fire dances gently.
Shadows shift across stone walls.
Rain trickles down the windows.
And beyond the windows.
The law.
The mountains.
Disappear and prevail the tea night.
You There is nowhere else you need to be.
The world outside can wait.
Tonight,
You are simply here.
One.
Sheltered.
Resting.
And if your eyes begin to feel heavy.
Let them close.
Your thoughts wander.
Let them wander.
You don't have to make anything happen.
You can simply rest.
Becomes heavier in your hands.
The fire becomes softer.
The rain becomes quiet.
Or perhaps.
.
.
You are simply less aware of it.
And somewhere between one thought and the next.
Who can begin to drift.
The fire is warm.
The room is quiet.
The castle is holding you.
Again.
And breathing out.
Perhaps with each breath.
You settle a little more deeply.
Into the chair.
Or into your bed.
Wherever you are resting now.
The rainstorm.
The fire burn.
Castle on tube.
Rats.
As long as you like.
Resting.
Dreaming.
Sleeping.
You
