Last weekend we went up to Bottom Creek Gorge to take a hike and find some beautiful leaves. I wanted to break in some new hiking boots that I had gotten a few weeks earlier.
When I got out of the car and started walking down the trial, everything felt very different. It was like I had been transported to a different time and place. It had been a long time since I had walked in the woods with real hiking boots. The trails that I kept back up on our mountain were Birkenstock friendly.
It occurred to me that I felt like I was back on the farm. The boots made me feel like I had a serious list of chores to do instead of causal hike looking for fall leaves. Somehow my Birkenstocks just don't give me the same feeling. The Birks are my regular foot ware most of the year unless I'm on a business call when I have to wear dress shoes.
I guess the transformation came from living in hiking boots the eleven years we ran a farm. The only exceptions were rubber boots for mud, felt lined boots for extreme cold, and dress shoes for church.
When we moved from northern New Brunswick, where our farm was located, to Halifax when I took a job with Apple, I was amazed that you could get away with tennis shoes or sneakers for most of the year. Now I live where Birkenstocks will suffice. Hiking boots are rarely needed. Sneakers are cold weather footwear.
Somehow the boots on Saturday made me feel like I was doing something important. I walked differently, even with great purpose. As I remember I wore Addias sneaker or loafers in college. Military school (high school) was definitely spit-shined black leather shoes.
So maybe our stages of life are defined by the shoes we wear. I can't wait for the next stage when I'm barefooted on the beach, and the Birkenstocks are winter footwear.
