Once, on the Highway, north of Superior, near Montreal River, I had to stop a truck on the shoulder and take a short break.
When I got out of the cab and walked around to the side away from the road I noticed a pair of boots.
They were sitting neatly side by side.
Laced and knotted.
They were not large.
A pair of neat and tidy woman's hiking boots.
There were no people around, no other sign of people except the highway and the mine's supply truck sitting there grumbling in the early evening... no tracks into the bushes, nothing in the ditch, not a note or even a gum wrapper...
just me... and that odd, improbable, unexplainable, perfectly matched, neat and tidy, enigmatic, pair of woman's hiking boots, on the shoulder of the road, on a long empty stretch, of the Trans Canada highway.

I wonder why they were set there like that, so neatly, and if she ever returned for them, who ever she might have been.