Only the other day I was musing how snugly my rucksack now fit me. A decade of wearing it almost every day, in every weather condition, has caused it to assume the form of my back. Indeed, one might say that it is part of my new back. And so, this morning, upon reaching the little burn in the hills above Paisley and realising my back was only half there I was genuinely shocked. Shocked in the same way that a mother might be shocked at discovering the child she put in her car this morning was no longer in the car. I thought it impossible to leave a limb without noticing it. It was as if my left hand had fallen off and I hadn't noticed, or, I had noticed but only after several minutes. I suppose it confirms what I already knew, that I travel lightly and my rucksack is not as feel-able as a heavy one might be. And I was distracted by a walker in his fluourescent orange jumpsuit. Which is why I always say, when you're in the hills, respect the hills. You don't dive into a swimming pool fully clothed.
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