rory celebrates footwear new year; thanks his feet for their hard work, dedication and teamwork; and checks the living clock of nature. 4-2-06

This pair has been my feet's best friends since last Spring. Look at them. Aren't they beautiful? So much history. They speak to me. An excerpt: "The things we've seen that you've missed, rory. Those beautiful green beetles copulating in the shade of a small rock on the trail, the Adder's Tongue Lily when no more than a green tip in moist brown earth. The vole scat in a circle on the trail just before the bluebell meadow, the silt clouds from underwater in the polliwog puddle. Ah, but you do recall the rattler under the leaf litter flicking lefty with her tongue. Of course lefty saw her first." Yes, dear friends we have traveled many miles, walked through mud, climbed cliffs, stood in streams, walked foggy alley pavements glistening with rain, stamped the snow off at the gates of many a convenience store, and hardly ever stepped in dog shit. It has been a good year. You have served me well. You have earned your light duty now. Righty, your torn toe attests to your courage dancing in scree. Lefty, you haven't complained about your split seam once. I love you guys.


It is Footwear New Year's day. April 2. This is the New Year that rory celebrates. rory sez: screw January 1st. Fuck the lunar new year. The equinoxes are the more significant natural dates to me, anyway. Equinox and Footwear New Year's Day. Footwear New Year's celebration involves acceptance of new boots and a breaking-in ceremony. Perhaps most importantly, it involves foot awareness. I remember to be grateful TO my feet. Often, but not often enough in this world of locomotion-prostheses for the healthy, my feet are my only carriage. On Footwear New Year's day I remember to be grateful FOR my feet. Not everyone has functional feet, or feet at all. Feet, I love you! I say this all day. I shout it to the hills. Feet I love you!

With some apprehension, I switched brands of footwear this year. The primary reason: I did not want to wear the skin of an animal whose death might have been ugly and painful and the culmination of hideous suffering and abuse at the hands of Chinese killers or any other executioners with no care about how much pain they inflict. I didn't want my shoes to have been the living organ of a creature slowly killed by a tightening wire garrot, a knife cutting its live throat, or hammer carelessly brought down on its head several times. rory sure as shit didn't want to be unknowingly wearing canine skin on his dogs. Especially not from doggies skinned alive to make a pair of shoes, a wallet, jacket or purse. And yet, rory's feet carry him many miles through some rough terrain, both during work and recreation. He likes comfortable, waterproof boots that let him dance over the scree without feeling like a spike is being driven into his instep and tiptoe over the talus with traction and support. His feet help to feed him and must be taken care of. The solution, rory hoped, had been found:



Weather was fine today for the breaking in ceremony. Titmice and chickadees were busy in the bittersweet vines. Ravens flew out over the cliffs enjoying the breeze and sun over the river. A peregrine falcon shot along the face of a cliff as rory walked in his new boots. Feet were feeling pretty good. The breaking-in ceremony was going well. There was a good scree simulator along the banks of the river and rory walked it in the new boots:



Hmm. Good ankle support on the uneven and unsteady rocks. Good foot protection from the sharp edges of rock. Feet to rory: 'I think we're falling in love again." rory keeps walking along the scree-simulationg bank. rory's not just thinking about his feet. He's feeling the breeze. The sun. Seeing what time it is in nature. Today this willow by the river looked like this:



Past the willow, on the beach, a Mourningcloak:


Every Butterfly has its time. Today is the time for this Mourningcloak. Oh, Butterfly who overwinters as an adult, who leaves the hibernaculum to gather energy on those lovely solar panel wings, who enjoys the first sap of Spring! rory is happy to see you. As he kneels to photograph the Butterfly, he notices that his new boots remain comfortable and in place, despite the change in position, the folding of toes. From this year forward, rory will associate the beautiful Mourning Cloak with Footyear New Year's Day, much as some associate the noisy spinning of cheap ratchets and the popping of champagne corks with u.s. new year's day.

The Mourning Cloak's context from rory's point of view;



On the way back, the tide was flooding. An excellent opportunity to test the waterproofness of the new boots and walk on slick rocks. And they performed well. Feet were dry. As good a coefficient of friction as you're gonna get between sole and slimy rock.


On the way back, a visage miraculously appeared in nature. Holy Mother Mary on a Flapjack! Jesus Christ on a Tortilla!! One of the Teletubbies on the beach! Placed there by the tides and divine intervention. Laa Laa, specifically. Keeper of the shape shifting ball. Frequent sayer of the word "Nice." Surely a sign. I mean, had it been Jesus on the cross, most would have taken it as a sign, a miracle, a message from god, no? For a moment, I thought this yellow Teletubbie was the daughter of a deity, or perhaps the sun goddess herself, and that she brought a blessing upon the boots. So, in the godless religion that rory creates anew with every beat of his heart, Laa Laa is now the saint of boots. Oh sacred sun-yellow Teletubbie of shifting orb, Laa Laa, bless the boots of rory and all his friends. Like the Mourningcloak, Laa Laa officially will henceforth be associated with Footwear New Year's Day and be worshipped during the ceremonial activities associated with the event. And for those of you who would accuse rory of livin' in Laa Laa land. rory sez: Fuckin' A!


New boots, rory thinks you and he are going to have many good times together through another cycle of the living clock of nature.