Barefoot

          There is something glorious about the pat pat pat sound of bare feet hitting the ground. It is a care free sound, a sound that says "This is the moment that I am living in, and the next moment is simply between here and the next step."

          One of the items on my Knot List is to go barefoot in as many major cities as possible. So far, the only major city I have done this in (that I can remember at least) is Washington D.C. Actually, it was the experience of trekking the paved and unpaved paths of the nation’s capital at night that inspired the desire to do it in other places as well. For anyone who has not seen D.C. at night, it is completely different from the busy, rushing atmosphere that saturates the city during the day. The night is calm; with only the distant sound of humming cars and American flags flapping in the wind and quiet conversations to listen to as you walk from one memorial to the next. All the monuments are lit up so that they fill your view; the goals that you strangely feel compelled to walk towards even though midnight quite possibly could have already come and gone. As strange as it sounds, the simple act of getting my feet dirty with Washington dirt has gone a long way in becoming one of my favorite memories.

          Since then, I have not visited anymore major cities, but I have found myself in several smaller ones. I have walked the hot streets of Durham as my sister showed me around her school, I have crossed a busy street at night to go grocery shopping for chocolate with thirteen other girls, and I have ambled along the sidewalks and crossed railroad tracks while looking for that-perfect-little-boutique with Ashley. Barefoot. Living each moment from one step to the next.