Ice

I used to hate it when soft white snow turned to grey slush. Now I long for the slush to arrive.

There's been no snow since Boxing Day night. A little snow has melted and the main roads are clear but the pavements are icy. People have walked the snow into hard, white ice. Even more dangerous are the patches where snow has melted a little and then re-frozen, giving paving stones a transparent glaze.

I did not fall when I went out yesterday but the care I took was exhausting.

Once I would have found this excursion exciting - when I was small and nearer to ground level. Now I know that a fall can cause bad damage. I'm glad to know, after a scan a few years ago, that my bones are not particularly brittle. I see others out of doors and think this icy word may be more dangerous for them.

There's lots of advice for older people on how to keep warm at home. "Wear more clothes," we are advised, as though we were idiots who couldn't think of this for ourselves. That's not the advice we need. We don't want to be trapped in our homes in bad weather.

 A quick google shows that there's some advice on how to walk on icy surfaces in other countries. The University of Illinois seems to assume that everyone will drive and that most  problems arise when walking in car parks - but their advice on posture may be helpful. We should, apparently, walk flat-footedly with the centre of gravity above the feet. Backpacks can  throw us off balance and it's a good idea to extend the arms if possible. It sounds a bit like tightrope-walking. I'm less certain about their advice to use hands to break a fall as  I've come across a few people who have broken their wrists in this way.

I know that I could buy devices for walking on ice and fix them to my walking boots - or even to ordinary shoes - but I've have to venture across the ice to get them, and ordering by mail would mean waiting a few days, by which time the ice may have cleared. I may try to get some in case of further bad weather, if they haven't all sold out. They would be useful when I need to get to work.

Meanwhile I'm grumpily at home, wearing a rather large quantity of knitwear, and wishing I could go for a walk - or fly, like the delightful wagtail I saw fluttering around the shops yesterday. With its feathers fluffed out until it appeared almost spherical, it seemed to be enjoying the weather. But of course, it favoured the pedestrian shopping area which frequent footfall had cleared of snow and ice.

I will go for a walk when I have a sensible reason to do so, or when the ice melts.