It was a rainy day in the fall of 2014, but rays of sunshine slowly appeared on the horizon. With a somewhat distracted ear, I listened to the rattle of the train on the rails. I had been travelling for about twelve hours, and I was beginning the last part of my trip towards northeast Scotland. Verdant hills rolled along the horizon, where herds of sheep grazed, and trees and sharp cliffs stood tall. Upon my arrival in the town of Forest, I embarked on a bus to the small maritime village of Findhorn nested between bay and sea, right on the sandy hills.