In the springtime, the little wooden bridge next to our building is the perfect platform for watching the fluffy baby ducks zigzag their way down the creek.

However, the winter spins another story...

Packed snow turns to ice, and that little wooden bridge becomes a slick hazard. Cresting across no man's land, between the apartment buildings and shopping complex, it tends to be ignored by the maintenance people who work on either side. Therefore, it receives little to no sand.... or so it would seem to me anyway. The bridge is especially precarious when one is wearing high-heeled boots and carrying a couple bottles of wine. However, after a few close calls, I've since learned my lesson.

So the other day, I tossed on my sturdy runners before making my way across the little wooden bridge over to the drugstore to buy a book of 10 stamps, shampoo, two tubes of toothpaste, a new toothbrush, hair dye, a flat iron, and donate $3.00 to some charity in exchange for a gold-coloured pin with a lion on it - which I only did because the lady at the counter caught me off guard. I was an easy target for charity because I had already felt guilty about spending so much money on other impulse items, when I had originally only intended on buying three or four stamps.

Well, I guess I needed the other stuff, like shampoo n' toothpaste, so they weren't exactly impulse items... except maybe the flat iron. But I've wanted one for a while, and it wasn't expensive or anything. Besides, I rarely buy myself stuff anymore... so I rationalized that it was okay. I figure the money I was saving by dying my hair myself, instead of paying salon prices (although I do feel kinda bad about taking money out of my hairdresser's mouth), meant that I had a little wiggle room in my disposable cash budget. J buys his DVDs, and I buy hair stuff. Then again, I get to watch J's DVDs and he doesn't get much use out of hair dye or a flat iron... except maybe the fact that I'll look nice for him and he won't have to remind me that, "Boy, your hair is getting long. It looks really great!" Pause. "I notice that it's much lighter at the top." (His very polite way of saying, "Maybe you should get your hair done.") Ah yes, but I digress....

So, I warn the lady at the counter that my bank card hasn't been working properly. And naturally, because I give her this warning, she swipes it once and it works on the very first try. Thank heavens! Fortunately I brought J's bank card with me, just in case...

With a cheerful goodbye and a "have a nice day", I left the drugstore and made my way back to the little wooden bridge. I have to admit that I was quite pleased with myself that I was smart enough to wear my runners this time. With my big bag of stuff, it would really suck if I were to slip on that ice, allowing all the contents to spill on to the snowy creek below.

And that's when I saw him.

On the verge of crossing into no man's land, was the sweetest little old fellow you've ever seen. I believe he must've been in his late 70's/early 80's. His arms were spread wide, just like those cute baby ducks where they're first learning to fly - only in his case it was a delicate balancing act to prevent a messy combination of ice and gravity from gripping ahold and pulling him down. By the time I was within arm's reach, he had safely made it past the iciest part of the path. Whew.

As my confident runners took their first few steps on to the ice, he looked up from his steady focus on his feet. His face serious, but kind.

"Be careful!" he warned. "Don't fall and break a hip!"

Break a hip.

Bless his sweet heart.

I sure hope he made it back home okay.