I was intrigued by the personal memorials I found in different places in Scotland - there were flowers and a note by one of the Glencoe trailheads, and near Loch Lomond a fake-flower bouquet had been planted in a little copse, with a card dedicated to a lost grandfather. Tokens for recent losses make sense the world over, but there were also fresh tributes at the monument to a 400-year-old massacre. (I came upon a group taking a few wedding photos there, too, though that might have been entirely unrelated.) It seems like the memory of death and massacre - and there were certainly plenty of those through Scottish history - runs strong in the region.
I'm savoring my last few days with friends in London, and will have some things to say about Hampshire (and Jane Austen!) soon.