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November 9th 2010    Tim Candler

    Socks are increasingly relevant to morning routine.  Today after smelling the air, I decided to ignore the chill in my toes and pretend the cracks on my heels were a reminder of existence.  It is this sort of hardiness that keeps socks in their place, under the bed and at the bottom of the drawer.

    Okanya never wore socks.   Indeed I remember seeing him only once with shoes on his feet.  He told me they fit him fine, but we both knew he was exaggerating, because there is no shoe size that fits a foot, rather it is a foot that learns from an early age to fit a shoe.

    

    No doubt in my mind that our species emerged in tropical climates.  Otherwise we would have something like large paws at the end of our legs.  Extraordinary to think of us coming to the conclusion that a future lay in footwear.  Some of us must have thought it an adventure to walk on frosted land without risk of losing toes.  These people of course have become skiers and snowboarders and bunnies in boots.

     Had I been there, amongst that first dressing up of feet, I'd have decided to move south, back to the barefoot places.

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