The Glenfinnan Viaduct curves through the Scottish Highlands under exactly the kind of sky this country is known for, layered grey cloud pressing low over the glen. Twenty-one arches step away toward Loch Shiel, the concrete darkened by more than a century of Highland weather since Robert McAlpine's crews finished the line in 1901. We had come hoping to catch the afternoon train crossing, the sight that draws visitors here from around the world who have never set foot in Scotland otherwise. It never came. The light did more than enough on its own, moving in slow bands across the arches while the moorland below held its late season gold and green. I stayed with the bend of the bridge until the cloud shifted again, and the whole valley changed color once more.
