Why do I go barefoot?

Why do I go barefoot? It’s simple, because I like it. I really like it. Life is an adventure and walking barefoot is the most amazing adventure of all full of textures and feelings. I’ll try to explain by giving you my feets perspective on a day.
I wake in the morning, my feet cozy and warm under the blankets as I rise to get out of bed. The first feeling of the day, warm burble carpet under foot, soft and inviting, slightly ticklish here and there. Step on to the tiles in the bathroom, smooth, cool slightly slippery and a little textures like shale. As I stand there they warm and I get the sensation of both warm tile and cool as I move around.
Out into the hall to go down stairs I am met with a mixture of warm wood floors, slightly grainy and more of the carpet. As I progress downstairs I step on one of the pups soup bones, all lumpy and sharp, cool to the touch. My foot kind of rolls over it stretching like getting an inpromptu foot massage.
More tiles in the front hall and in the kitchen, out on the deck I see fresh snow that has fallen over night. Stepping out on to the deck it is cold but not uncomfortable, the snow envlopes my feet tingling. It squishes under foot as I walk unlike any other surface I can think of. It’s really unique. Back inside I go out to the garage to put some garbage away, the cement floor is cool, rough, it has a distinctly unfinished feel. It’s flat but not smooth at all, the feeling is amazing, exciting all the sole of my feet.
Skip ahead now several months to a summers day, out for a walk. As I stroll down the sidewalk warmed by the sun I can feel the rough grain of the pavement, a little further on it changes to a new patch, very smooth and much warmer. I can feel the heat all through my feet. Stepping off the path I am greeted first by warm sand which gives as I walk on it, flows over my feet, between my toes. It’s warm, grainy just slighty rough here not like smooth beach sand of fine clay. Then I am on the grass, soft and ticklish under foot, swishing as I walk. As a gentle rain (or perhaps a summer downpour) starts to fall, the feeling of the grass changes, now cool and wet, sprionkling my ankles as I go along. The sand I passed earlier is now mud, soft cool and clingy, it coats your feet, crackles ever so slightly when it dries.
Later walking back to home I pass a driveway made of pebbles, walking across it is the most amazing feeling, not grainy like pavement, not smooth and inviting like carpet and grass. It’s rough and rolling, smooth at the same time. Full of bumps, lumps and unevenness, warmed by the sun, some places hot others merely warm. Then I cross an intersection, the road paved not unlike the sidewalk earlier, the pavement is hot almost too hot to walk on, the painted line in the middlew giving respite from the heat. The pavement although open grained like the sidewalk is much smoother, made that way by the passage of countless cars.
Home now I prepare to go up to Loblaws for some necessities. As I get in my car I notice the carpet, not all like that in my bedroom. This one is rougher, sturdier, less inviting with sharp sand and little stones left by winter. My feet feel the peddles, hard rubber, cool to the touch but not uncomfortable or harsh. Theyt have been worn smooth by years of drivers (shod and not), all the sharp edges worn away.
In Loblaws the floors are cool, smooth as glass and slightly dusty. My feet slide a little as I travel up and down the isles. In the freezer section the floor temperature drops by at least 15 degrees, F. It’s cool, my wholer body reacts, it’s 90 outside but standing here in the freezer isle I am quite cool. A bit further on near the seafood section my cart rumbles across a section of checker plate, steel with little cross marks on it. The sensation of walking over this is remarkable, it’s cold, textured, does give in the least.
Down another isle I am back on smooth floors, picking up pancake mix when a little boy looks up at me, then down at my feet. He smiles and says “hey mister your feet are bare!” His mother quickly herds him away in the other direction as he looks back, smiling.
Why do I go barefoot? Because I like it. To me it is like going on a trip to some distant place and deciding to go by plane, get there faster and see nothing, experience nothing. Or to go by convertable with the wind in your hair, dust and smells whirling all about you, adventures around every corner. I like being barefoot, life is an adventure.

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