Scars

I was looking down at my hand to see my scars. Not long ago I was in a conversation which lead to comparing scars, telling the stories behind them. Scars hold stories, memories that we may associate with people. In my case, the scars on my hand are very little, and the memories are still so vivid in my mind as to when and how I got them. I don't have many, just a few small ones here and there. Some are more visible than others, but it occurred to me that I know how I got each and everyone of them.

The most obvious scars I have are on my right shin. Not pretty, but you learn to deal with it. I got that scar from exhibition. For those who do not know what that is, expedition is a 14 day hike throughout the Victorian Alplines that the year 9's do every year. It is such an accomplishment, and a once in a lifetime experience for some. With my massive pack, weighing a ton, we continued to walk when we came across quite steep, and rocky ground. Now I mean sharp edgy rocks embedded within the dirt that made walking very difficult for one with weak ankles. I was walking along, and that's when I fell... forwards. Usually the classic bush stack is sliding backwards on your bum, but in my case I had kilos crashing down forwards on top of me. Got a grand graze/cut which overtime healed, leaving a little reminder of that time, a scar.

If you have scars... Do you remember how and when you got them?

Scars tell stories.