Shoes.

These bad boys take me places.


The first day I got them, they took me to get 247 shots before I went to Haiti.

They stuck by me last summer when I worked at camp for an entire week. I pounded the gravel at our church property for 8 days with them. And then I picked little rocks out of the bottom each evening.

They've hiked me up and down Mt. Peak more times than either of us can count.

They walked me down the streets of Cabo San Lucas on my honeymoon.

They get scrubbed down with magic erasers and soaked with oxi-clean often.

And they run me all around my sweet town.

It may not seem like it, but the point I'm trying to get to is that I love fall. Obviously my train of thought is complicated. Hopefully you'll catch on.

My shoes took me out this morning on my usual route. We went through town and hopped on the trail, then cut down by the river and eventually back up through town. It's a nice little loop. It's scenic and is almost exactly three miles, which I love.

Anyway, today the trail smelled like fall. I am thankful for two reasons. One being that usually the trail smells like cows. And in the summer, you don't want to breathe in 80 degree cow smell. Trust me. The second reason is obviously because I love fall. You could smell the wet leaves and fresh fallen rain. I was so happy, I could have ran for three more miles. I didn't, because that is crazy and I am not on that type of crazy-runner level yet. Also because I almost stepped on a slug multiple times. 

Boots and pumpkins and scarves and football are right around the corner. But now the sun is breaking through the clouds and I'm sure it will feel like August again by 3pm. Thank you Jesus for my little peak of fall this morning!