I start every day the same way. Trying to find where my dog has put my shoes.
She is a morning dog. I am not a morning gal. The penalty is one shoe per fifteen minutes. My dog sets the terms and I have never successfully negotiated them. At this point I’m not sure I have the leverage.
A slow cup of coffee always follows the shoe hunt. And the best days mean trail shoes, dogs, friends and a mountain trail.
That’s me on the first day of the Mont Blanc trail, looking like a drowned rat with no regrets. The sky opened up the moment we reached the pass. What followed was a thousand feet of sliding — not hiking, actually sliding — because the trail had turned to mud. All of it.
This is where I put those moments – photographs and words from someone who keeps showing up, one shoe at a time.
