REFLECTION|SHORT STORY

Bog shoes

Partially decayed

Family time in Christmas-themed parks is always fun. You can enjoy the lights, look through the window of the North Pole Express, and meet Santa. But as wise people say, “Those who look will find,” and during my recent adventure, I had a surprising encounter with a pair of shoes.

I didn’t expect to find a humble but sensitive exhibition about WWI, WWII, and rural lifestyle in a place full of hot chocolate, garlands, and arcades. The worn-out shoes with hand-twisted laces stood under direct light. Like an old acclaimed actor, during the Oscar award ceremony, they exposed wrinkles and signs of damage from life experience but stood proud and confident.

“You did a good job protecting somebody’s feet.” I thought. Isn’t it why we wear shoes, right? To protect our feet? But I read the sign next to the showpiece that said,

“Bog shoes were worn by early growers to protect the spongy peat layer from getting crushed…”

A spongy peat layer is partially decayed organic matter. It has a high water content and is vital as a habitat for assorted plant and microbial species. How sensitive should one be to care about something partially decayed? I thought and kept thinking about it up till now.

Our writings and poems are enriched with fading feelings, dying emotions, and diffused memories. Partially decayed, they are still inhabited by species of inspiration to spark new thoughts, motivate us, or restart the engine of rumination. This old footwear made me realize that each piece I wrote is a bog/link in a chain of wetlands, and if someone decides to walk through these marshes, I want them to wear this type of shoe.