The town’s parking meter maid resumed her rounds this morning after a winter hiatus. The birds are chirping, the snow is melting and the thermometer is supposed to hit 50 today. But that isn’t how I know that spring will come.
I wore violet suede shoes with little flowers on them today.
I am not a particularly “girlie” girl. I’m a practical, matronly woman.
My winter boots, my constant companions until just a few days ago, are sensible. They are crepe-soled, flat-heeled, ankle-high and they zip on both sides for easy on-and-off. OK, they’re Totes. Dear Sweet Lord, they are Totes! I am not THAT old. I was just seduced by the easy, winter practicality of them.
I was half asleep this morning, rooting around in my closet when I came up with the violet shoes. I forgot I had them. They were an impulse buy – not my usual sensible pumps.
Next thing I knew, my feet and I were striding confidently out the door, clad in violet suede with flower adornment. It was pure instinct. Like the swallows returning to Capistrano and the salmon swimming upstream to spawn. I answered an ancient call, hard-wired in my DNA.
In spring, a (young) woman’s fancy turns to thoughts of pretty shoes.