This, a barefoot year. This a year of loose pants and hooded sweatshirts, this a year of boots lonely and left waiting in front halls and back closets, this a year of untouched luggage. I miss my boots, miss the ground they tread upon, I miss the laces and the pulling snug, miss the smell of leather when scented with Scottish rain and decaying leaves. I miss the me that filled those boots, the wanderlust and hope pulsing like blood running thick, I miss tired legs leading to worn out feet, I miss washing away a day of adventure in the shower before bed.
Aw yes wet boots, cold dewy mornings, hikes all day...can't wait for more of that. Hauling backpacks on to planes, stepping out into new frontiers.....
Aw yes wet boots, cold dewy mornings, hikes all day...can't wait for more of that. Hauling backpacks on to planes, stepping out into new frontiers.....