The title of the story came from my habit of taking long walks by myself. I would climb hills, I would walk the length of the shore of the Gare Loch. And I would scream. I had lots of 'places to scream'. Lots of isolated spots where the nearest houses were miles away and no one would hear me.
Kind of my own version of primal scream therapy I guess.
When I was 17, my family moved away from the Gare Loch and I got so caught up in university and later work that I never did find another place to scream.
Early this morning, I took the dog for a very long walk, trying to blow the cobwebs out of my head. Trying to sort things out.
I discovered something about myself today. I don't need a place to scream anymore, I need a place where I can breathe. I'm lucky in that I live where I do. It's not where I grew up, it's not as beautiful as the Gare Loch can be. But it is a place I can breathe.
My new icon is actually a picture of the Gare Loch, taken I believe from the Peaton Hill, which was one of the hills I used to climb as a teenager. Now you can see why I love this country.