TW: mild ideation.

If Science is anything to go by and for the sake of simplicity, we are all made of what are essentially microscopic dust particles.

Right in this moment, I would like for my own collection of dust particles to be broken down by some force of nature, like the wind.  But slowly, gently, so that I do not ‘feel’ the effort needed for such an undertaking.  I would then like for them to be carried on a mere breath of a breeze across the sea.  At some point they would change trajectory and head to Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park, an ancient but beautifully carved part of the country that is now well outwith my real-life comfort zone.  There are some spectacular beaches along the more unspoilt Eastern side of Loch Lomond which hold memories of long, lazy days in the sun during endless summer breaks from University.  If the zephyr on which the pieces of me are being carried can manage it, I’d like to be taken to top of Ben Lomond, standing guard over the Loch and all its splendour.  In another life, I got to the top of  that mountain myself.  I find it hard to envisage a time when that might happen again.


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