I’m slowly learning the vagaries of snow. If it crunches it’s unlikely to be slippery. If it’s slippery and I fail to pay close attention, penguin-waddle, raise my feet, and move hunched over and at as sprightly a pace as I can manage, I fall ignominiously over. I fall once. My son lifts me bodily to my feet, holding me in a firm clinch until I stabilise. One of the park semi-vagrants comes over to help. All those younger than me, including J who is fit and not yet 70, run and frolic and glide without a tumble in sight.
Since my family began arriving last Wednesday the days have been sunny. Once I’m out in the snow I’m captivated by the light and the snow shadows. But I make sure I’m standing on a salted and sanded footpath before I shift my attention to photography.
Any advice about the safe navigation of ice would be most welcome!