Can you believe it? The first week of 2007, gone in an instant. I hope this isn't a sign of how quickly the entire year will unfold.I set out on The Usual Walk around mid-day today, hoping for a bit more warmth than the negative Fahrenheit of our recent mornings. Bright sun dictated sunglasses, bright breeze dictated fleecy scarf. Wind-swept snow dictated Sorels.
I love my boots-- fat and clunky and unfashionable as they are. They're comfortable and warm and waterproof. But I've had them for 8 or 9 years, and they still look new. Season upon season of drought has kept them in the closet.
Sure, we've had a wisp of snow here, a drizzle of rain there, but for years now there's been little to prevent me from wearing plain old walking shoes, month after month. (At least in all my usual haunts.)
But not this winter! We've had three good snowstorms in as many weeks, and my Sorels have seen more miles in that time than in their entire tenure in my possession. Tromp, tromp, tromp. Snow drift in the trail? Bring it on! Slush in the street? No problem. I am wearing boots.
It seems silly, to be so happy about wearing these things. But I know I'm not alone. I see others wearing THEIR Sorels. We glance at each other's footwear and smile a knowing smile: It is snowing. We are out walking. Life is good.
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