Way in front of me one of the elderly women who live on my street was making her way gingerly along the road. She had a couple of shopping bags in one hand and a sturdy walking stick in the other. For every one of her steps I took about three and I was soon walking parallel to her.
We exchanged greetings and, in the age-old English fashion, commented on the weather.
I noted that she was making sure and steady progress.
“I don’t want to fall over,” she replied. “That’s why I’m staying close to these.” She used her stick to point at the line of bollards.
“That makes sense,” I responded. “With this wind it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Yes,” she continued. “I’m not a coward, but I’m not stupid either.” Being a frail woman of relatively short stature, I understood her totally when she said, “I have to keep anchored.” I could see there was not much to her small slim frame and the wind was getting fiercer by the moment.
I wished her well as we parted and a short while later on my return journey I caught up with her as she continued her tortoise-walk in close proximity of the walls. We turned the corner of the street together and said our goodbyes.
Her wisdom will stay will me long after the weather has changed many times.