Usually the first one is cause for small celebration, with barefoot meandering, picnics, slightly warm bottles of wine.......... I'm surprised I thought it was funny to walk home squelching in my shoes with dark wet ankles above them. Curious, even, to discover how soon freezing wet feet warm up when you just get moving again.
At home, I tipped out a little pool from each shoe, watched the drops run in beads on the waxy surface of the footbeds, squeezed out my blue stripy socks, found a tiny tower shell in the treasure of grit and sand that I had carried home with me.
There's another Winter piece of mine here.
Thanks to Fiona for choosing my piece.