Most often beneath my feet is my dog (or rather my husband’s dog). Walking him twice a day we cover a lot of ground beneath our feet.
Even at Jaspers Bakery where we have coffee at the conclusion of our walk he is under our feet.
The terrain we cross differs. Sometimes grass.
Other times sand. Some sand with crabs other sand with rutile.
Sometimes a footpath of concrete is beneath our feet.
This little chap has Sydney beneath his feet. He has reached the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge without the harnesses and ropes and the terror that stops me from making the climb.