The Pentland Hills silently watch over the residents of Edinburgh. The dark, instantly recognisable, outline of the hills against the sky ever present.

My life plays out in the city in the shadow of these hills. All my earthly concerns and cares contained below the peaks. The burgh is home, a powerful construct that whispers that the beyond is the daunting unknown. Security is attained by biding in the familiar, the hills are a tangible limit to the city, to my life, providing cognitive reassurance. I must remain here below, constricted, breathless, but safe.

Yet, from these same hills something calls to me. I ascend Allermuir. Up on the peak, perspective is gained. The hill whispers it’s centuries old wisdom to me, shows me endless horizon, a world to embrace. The city laid out below is surprisingly small. I perceive the anxieties born there, that thrive there, fed by the need to remain in the known. I remove the blinkers, I inhale and breathe the world in. I yearn for the unknown. I leave my worries earthbound and rise.

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