Barefoot in the snow!

From time to time I like to go down to the creek and sit on my personal ledge and enjoy the beauty, listen to God, and write.  I’ve been doing this for about a year and-a-half, and I always take my journal, and I always wear my crocs.  I used to wear them because the first part of the creek road had these two huge, deep dips that were just about always – even in the very hottest, driest weather – filled with water.  Knowing I’d have to slog through two, long deep mud puddles, it just made sense to wear the crocs.  After all, why get mud stuck in the sole grooves of tennis shoes, and why get socks wet?

Then sometime last year, the highway department graded the road back there and pretty much eliminated the puddles, but I still wear the crocs because you just never know!  Besides that, I like to wade out into the creek, and my feet are too tender to do that barefoot.

Today, I wanted to go to the creek.  I think it was about 40 and windy (9 mph) and cloudy, but I decided to go anyway.  It had rained for most of the day a couple days ago, and I knew the creek was up.  That meant that there might be mud puddles, so, as always, I wore my crocs.

The creek road did have mud puddles, but I was able to skirt them pretty easily.  Then, I hit the major challenge.  The place where the road tends to get washed out was totally washed out!  As in, the center of what would have been the road was about knee deep under very, very cold water.  The flooded section was pretty long – longer than it has been in previous years – because major flooding two years ago made significant changes to the creek’s flow pattern, gravel bars having been completely relocated.  Hmmm. . . what to do?  I couldn’t tell from the near end how deep it would get, but being the innately adventurous sort of woman that I am, I rolled my jeans up above my knees and started wading.

Now, you must get the picture.  I was wearing jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, my navy blue dicky, my really old ragged coat (the one I never wear in public, except occasionally for walking in the mornings when it’s below 30 and windy; it was 20 and calm this morning I didn’t wear it), and ear muffs.  All that and my jeans were rolled above my knees, and I was bare-legged with crocs.

I had to walk very slowly through the water, because I’m not quite as sure-footed as a gazelle, and I did NOT want to fall and lose my journal or get my phone wet.  (Note that personal injury concerns were not an issue; only the protection of the irreplaceables.) I stayed by the edge, and although the current was pretty strong, the water only came shin-deep on me, so my jeans stayed dry.  Every so often, I looked up to see how much farther I had to go, and since that distance never seemed to change, my progress was fairly slow.  My feet were numb by the time I got to the other side, but I figured that walking would get the circulation going again, and once I was sitting, I could always take the crocs off and let my feet air dry.

When I got to my ledge, I had to do things differently from the norm.  I always walk down the little gravel hill to the flat rock and walk across it to my seat, but today, the entire flat rock was under rushing water.  I had to climb down onto the ledge from above, and the water was only a couple feet away from my feet!  It was all greeny brown with whitecaps.  Really neat!

So I sat and listened and wrote for a while, and at one point I saw a tiny little piece of lint on my coat, which I flicked off.  A few minutes later, I saw another one on the cuff of the coat, and I wondered if it could possibly be snow.  Turns out it was!  Not enough to even be sure it was snowing, but the next fleck I found was cold and melted on my fingertip, and that was a dead giveaway.

Since my toes were still numb from the wading, and since the air was smelling faintly like snow, I decided I should head back.  I wasn’t really relishing the return wade, but it was uneventful, and all was well.  Back once again on the “near” side of the washed-out section, I paused to unroll my jeans, then looked up, and suddenly it was really, significantly snowing!!!  I called Andrew and told him he ought to go outside.  He was thrilled, too!

As I walked back to the house, I noticed that although I could feel my heels hitting the pavement, I couldn’t feel my toes at all.  Not even a little bit.  It was as if my feet ended at their arches.  Probably not a good thing.  Back home, I walked around barefoot on the carpet for a few minutes until I could begin to feel my toes again.  My feet were quite red, but now, a couple hours later, all feeling has returned and they are fine.

It snowed steadily for about an hour, but it’s not even enough to cover the grass.  However, I think I can now legitimately say (like Josiah) that I have been barefoot in the snow!

[Note:  When I got home, it was actually 28 degrees and snowing!]


1 Response to “Barefoot in the snow!”

  1. 1 Andrew February 9, 2013 at 9:12 am

    As soon as I say the title of this blog post I started laughing! 🙂

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