I was waist-deep in the water of Loch Ness at Dores when it finally washed over me – I am getting a divorce. My body suddenly came back to me after a five year absence and it felt everything at once – the stones shifting under my feet and sometimes smooth and sometimes a sharp edge digging into my skin, the cold loch water numbing my legs and the curious juxtaposition of feeling sun warmth and deep, open breaths in my upper body. I suddenly remembered what it was like to have a body.

In my hand, but no longer on my finger, a ring – part life raft, part anchor. I let five ducks bob past me, before I threw the ring as far as it would go, letting it sink to its final resting place at the bottom of the Loch. I almost went with it. Almost.

Before I had time to sink though, a paddleboard with two dogs riding on it floated by. The unexpected absurdity of the scene and the joy of it lifted a weight. This Loch is big enough for my tears, yes, but also for surfing dogs. Children chasing ducks, friends with canoes. Time to re-join the living body of absurd joy.

At any one moment it is all taking place – numb knees but warmth on your face, endings and beginnings, brutality and grace. I finally washed my face and made my way back to my old battered van, affectionately named ‘Nessie’ after the monster who how is the new keeper of both my memories and my grief. Time to live again.

Gillian Gamble