He stumbled up the hill and tried to make his way to the two swift trees he had picked out along with her favorite silk dress he held in hand. The perfume atop the dress and the salty ocean mixed with the moist grass swaying in the breeze made him feel dizzy as he breathed. He could never understand why this was her favorite smell, but he admitted that her favorite place was beautiful. Visiting the place he had married her one year before, the northwest coast of Scotland where the Atlantic's crashing waves roared; where the wind whistled in tune with the rustling of the grass and leaves; and the place where the salt was so strong you could feel your mouth dry with thirst; all of this reminded him of her. He glanced down at the white dress and then the white rope he had cut perfectly with two clothes pins holding on ever so tightly. He was ready to say goodbye.