I’ve walked a mile in my shoes.
Heck, I’ve walked hundreds of miles in my shoes–maybe even thousands.
You may think that sounds preposterous, and maybe it is, I can’t be sure. But I can be sure that I love my shoes!
For you see, during most of the summer I did not bother putting on my shoes. I could not walk.
Well, that may be a little misleading. I could walk: I just couldn’t go for a walk. Even to the end of my driveway.
But that has changed now. By the freely given grace of God, I can again go for a walk.
So look what I did. I put on my shoes:
I was so happy I cried!
My sister Joan and I walked through a life-size dinosaur exhibit. My friend Pamela and I walked through a quilt exhibit. I walked through the exhibit at the North Valley Art League. Mike and I walked through the Farmer’s Market. The week after that, my friend Nancy was here from Rhode Island. My friend Joy joined us as we decided to go gold-panning.
But first, I had to change shoes. Trail shoes and water shoes may be the same for some adventurers, but not for me. I put on my water shoes:
Then we went to Whiskeytown National Park and panned for gold near the Camden House:
Mike found a flake after an hour of swishing and swirling in the sparkling clear water, but we three girls found our gold in the sparkling hearts of one another.
Then, before we knew it, it was time to go.
We packed up our belongings, looked one last time at the pristine creek, and turned to walk back to the car.
For you see, I could walk back to the car.
So I bid the long, warm Dog Days of Summer a fond farewell:
I can only hope that Fall will find me walking through the crunchy leaves on the land I love.
Maybe you will join me as we walk together on this path called life.