I cannot abide flip flops on the beach. Sand gets between the strap and the top of my foot and rubs and that is not comfortable. Besides, unless the sand is too hot why would you want to wear shoes of any kind on the beach?
So, after a spell on the beach I walked back up the stairs to the campsite where we spent the week. Previously to this, I had put my flops back on, either when I reached the bottom of the stairs, or when, eventually, I reached the top of them. This time I must have been distracted, because I remained barefoot.
A spell down the road I noticed the marvelous feeling of asphalt under my feet.
It has been some time since I’ve walked barefoot on asphalt. I love the texture, rough but not so much that it is painful.
After a whole summer of shoelessness ones feet will be tough enough to walk on it when its hot and slightly squishy.
I didn’t put shoes back on. I walked in the soft dirt, on the grass mats that kept the campsite as clean as such can be, in the mulch under the trees where the kids dug after it was too late to dig in the sand on the beach, on the smooth concrete of the side walk.
Finally I reshod my feet when I had to go to the bathroom. Cold tile would have been a nice addition to the collage of textures, but going barefoot into a public restroom is just not something I am willing to do.
Baby boy likes to feel sand between his wee toes too.