Walking boots.

The biography my boots could write, about the trails walked and continents explored.Hills scaled, mud tracked, stones nudged and down pours survived.

Pony trekking on Dartmoor, archery in Suffolk, waterfall climbing in the Olympic National Park. Places seen and felt, smelled and remembered. Taking nothing but photographs, leaving nothing but boot prints.

Covered in polish, rubbed until shining, soles glued to keep out the wet. Their journey has almost come to an end. With a little coaxing maybe they can last just one trip more. The protectors of my feet, companions of my adventures, keepers of my outdoor memories.

 

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