Amy,

It was a true pleasure to walk in your shoes; they fit so perfectly. The heel of the shoe cradled my Achilles tendon instead of bruising it. The pattern of your arches perfectly aligned with my own, and, for some reason, I have always liked red shoes.

I should apologize, although I don’t think any permanent harm was done, I did get them a little wet. You see, I took them for a walk in a large park that I had never been to; I just picked a local green space off of the map. It wasn’t a bad plan, and the park turned out to be very nice. There was a small lake in the middle of the park (probably man-made, but still attractive). In my haste to get to the path around the lake (and away from the seven separate youth soccer games going on), I did not find the best route to the lake. My chosen route took me through some tall grass that turned out to be a little wet. Fortunately for your shoes, and me, I managed to avoid any mud. My feet never got wet; so I did not notice that your shoes had collected a little of the dew from the grass until I reached the path. The next time I looked down (after having walked for a little while) they were dry. Using a slightly more well thought-out approach, I found a dryer route back to my car.

The day was perfectly clear and a little brisk. At first I wished for the jacket I had left in the car, but once the wind died down, I was quite comfortable. The collection of birds around the lake was considerable. They each seemed to have their own little niche: some swam in the middle sifting plant material through their beaks, a few dove completely under the water to retrieve what, I’m not sure, one patrolled the shore snapping up the little critters living in the muck and rocks. This last bird had an ingenious method of hunting; it would twitch a foot in the mud (it almost looked like it was shivering), this would then scare what ever was hiding down there. I’m sure if my father had been along, he would have identified all of the waterfowl, but unfortunately I have no idea. Maybe you have some clues from my description (the wading bird was fairly small and white with a little white crest, long legs, and a long bill). It’s possible that you are just as clueless as I, in which case I guess we’ll never know.

Thank you for the opportunity to walk a mile in your shoes.

 

Sincerely,
Sara, shoe borrower