The trouble with wearing linen trousers – even smart, black well-cut ones – to work is that they were meant to be worn barefoot. And they’ve been insistently whispering that to me all day. My work flats are just a little too sensible and suburban. These trousers, and their owner, want to be on a beach somewhere.
Which is odd. I’m not really a “beach person” – I have fair skin and burn rather easily, and I’d rather cool breezes than hot sun, usually. But today I’d love to feel warm sand between my toes, play chicken with the waves at Makapu’u Beach as I did four years ago, and flop down for a couple of hours (under a tree, but still on the beach) and lose myself in a good summer paperback.
(I did buy these trousers to wear on the beach in Spain this summer. Maybe they’ve already picked up an intimation of their destiny.)
cakes, tea and dreams 
I think you should take those trousers to the beach IMMEDIATELY. They might go running off by themselves otherwise, and then what could be done?
I’m no beach person either, but your description makes me want to go on vacation.