Shoes By the Door
August 4, 2026
The shoes by our door in summer are usually flip-flops and water shoes. They are not there for decoration. They are there because we live near Lake Travis, where much of the shoreline is limestone and a good pair of water shoes can be the difference between enjoying the water and carefully picking your way across sharp, uneven rock.
After recent Hill Country flooding, the lake is higher and some shoreline areas still hold debris. That calls for respect and close attention, not fear. Conditions change, familiar edges can look different, and what washed downstream belongs to a larger story than our afternoon outside.
Knowing a place over time
On one lake day, John and I found part of a dock resting in the shade of trees and rocks. We sat near it for a couple of hours, close enough to slip into the water when we got hot and return to the shade afterward. It felt like a small found shelter, the kind of place you appreciate precisely because you did not plan it.
I have lived in Spicewood for almost twenty years. The area has changed, as beautiful places near Austin naturally do, but its character still lives in local knowledge and locally owned places. It lives in understanding the limestone underfoot, recognizing when the lake has changed, and knowing that a pair of water shoes by the door means the day may end at the water.
Home is partly made of these practical details. Not grand declarations, but objects that reveal how a place is actually lived in: shoes drying near the door, towels waiting to be washed, and the quiet confidence of knowing where you are.
With love and intention,
Jennifer
