Pantyhose

Did you ever take a nice stroll through a park? Or trot along a wooded path? Perhaps pull over at an overlook in the Breckenridge mountains in Colorado to take a picture with a friend?

And while you were in said location...you notice a pump, or a high heel rather, a child's Nike, a grown man's business shoe?

Where is the foot that goes in that shoe? Where is the other shoe? How did it get here!?

I've certainly lost things. A sock. A favorite sweatshirt. Virginity. My favorite pair of earrings from Dolly world, sterling silver butterflies with turquoise in the wings. But I've never been out walking...and lost a shoe.

Let's think about this. Shoes hanging over telephone wires in south Philly...that makes senses...I know how they got there. A shoe lying anywhere in the city makes sense really. But a shoe in a secluded location where you either needed a car or a pair of shoes to get to that location...it doesn't make sense.

I can't fathom a situation where the occupant of the shoe could leave the secluded location, in good health, without the shoe and not have noticed. I mention "in good health" as I often assume that the owner/occupant of the shoe must have been hurried, threatened, scared, dead, chased by an antelope, trying to evade a "b b bi, b b big, big bear, big bear cha, big bear chasing" them, etc. to have left their shoe behind.

I guess I'll just keep noticing abandoned shoes...and wondering how they got there. Ugh.

To make matter's more confusing, I found a pair of pantyhose, discarded, beneath my car this morning. They weren't there when I parked last night and they didn't fall out of MY gym bag, I know these two things to be fact. How someone managed to lose them is beyond me.