This morning, I almost didn’t wear socks. That doesn’t initially seem important. On warm days, I rarely do. Between March and September I have more ‘no sock’ days than sock days. But, at the last minute today I made it an ankle sock day. I don’t know what inspired the impulse.

And, why am I telling you this?

Because…

…during this evening’s hike, there was one random gigantic mud pit that decided to eat my shoes. At that moment, I was glad to be standing in the slightly swampy dirt in my socks.

I couldn’t quite clear it with my longest stride, you see. So I had to plant a foot, stretch, and lift. When I lifted the back foot, the mud held on. Oops. That left me in one shoe. I turned, planted to reach for the shoe, and grabbed it. SUCCESS! Except, when I turned to retreat into my reacquired shoe, the mud claimed it’s mate!

So, there I am – shoes in hand, white socks a stark shade of mud, and only halfway through my hike. Oops.

I managed to finish without further incident,  drove home barefoot, threw out my socks, and my slip-ons are currently drying on top of the washer.

It’s not really the time of year for Ramanessin yet. It’s prettiest once the wild grasses have grown to height, but when the main park at Holmdel is bound to be crowded, the peace and quiet of this wilder satellite section really can’t be beat for a sense of serenity…with or without shoes…

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