Daido, who died ten years ago yesterday, always bought and wore the same Wellington leather boots. Other than the slippers he wore around the Monastery in his robes, these were his only shoes. He once bought 4 pairs when he found them on sale, saying now he had boots for life. I thought of this yesterday when my new boots arrived. My feet, without invitation, grew a size over the last year or two, so all my old favorites no longer fit. I'd looked for good support, something high enough to deter a snake in the woods. It wasn't till I put them on, on his memorial day, that I realized they look very much like his. He once cheered up all of us exhausted Zen campers on a long Adirondack canoe trek through a swamp by scooping up a boot-full of swamp water and singing out "Ah Voyageurs! Let us enjoy this glorious Chateauneuf du Pap," and mimed drinking it down with gusto, leaving everyone limp with laughter... and somehow rejuvenated.