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Posted by Tania Kindersley.

When I turn left off the A90, for the last 35 miles to my house, this is what I see:

We stopped at the highest point, where the wind was blowing so hard I practically fell over. I let The Pigeon out to stretch her legs.

Looking right:

She saw this:

Looking left:

She saw this:

And then there was all the rest of it:

Once you drive over those hills, and see them from the other side, you get this glorious silhouette:

That is why, when I pass the sign saying Welcome to Scotland, I get actual tears in my actual eyes, and I don't care who knows it.

It is why I get homesick.

It is why I can't live anywhere else.

Back in my dear little garden, which is looking amazingly green and neat for the time of year, I look south and see this:

And west and see this:

Did you ever see anyone so pleased to be home?:

And serious, for her close-up:

And at last, oh at last, my hill. My hill:

Now I am going to sleep for 24 hours.

(I freely admit I am not as hardy as I once was, when it comes to long journeys.)