It can be a lonely place, can Rannoch Moor. Full of pools and bogs that can pull a man down and never let him see the sky again.
As the weeks passed, I was amazed that the shoes remained there, I had thought that some wild beast might have a taken them back to their lair or home or whatever, or that some numb skull would have thrown them away.
But there they lay. A little tired and worn, perhaps, but aren’t we all?
One Spring day I decided to stop to have a bit of lunch and thought that perhaps the stone table would be a good place to do this.
So I moved the shoes over a little to give me some room, and that was when I noticed the handwritten note pushed down into the toe of the right shoe. I unfurled the paper and read it:
“These are my shoes. Once I was caught on Rannoch Moor with nothing more than my bare feet (it is a long story, don’t ask). So these shoes are for you, for whoever needs them. That’s what life is about – sharing.”
I had to smile, and you know what? I smiled all the way back home. Life wasn’t so bad after all.
bobby stevenson 2020
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