Scotland: 2017

There rolls the deep where grew the tree

O earth, what changes hast thou seen!

There where the long street roars, hath been

The stillness of the central sea.

The hills are shadows, and they flow

From form to form, and nothing stands;

They melt like mist, the solid lands,

Like clouds they shape themselves and go.

— Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, Section 123