We reached the Highlands Tuesday, passing hills covered in downy grass and moss, threaded with innumerable streams. Scotland has more water than it knows what to do with. It’s as if Mother Nature left the faucet on. (We also passed the lake with my favorite name: Loch Lochy.) On the drive, I got to thinking about the symmetry of nature. The red-orange color of some of the grasses and ferns matches the hair of many Scots. The thick clouds obscuring the peaks of mountains resembled the wool of sheep grazing in the valleys. In the early afternoon, we reached the impressive, severe Eilean Donan Castle. Apparently, one of its inhabitants in the 14th century was warmed by the sight of 50 severed heads decorating its walls. That was a sign of discipline. The castle was badly damaged in the 1700s and remained exposed to the elements until around 1930, when the McRae-Gilstrap family restored it. Given its brutal history, I think I would have preferred to see it in ruins.