Slippery slopes (troibun)

The weather changed dramatically last week.  My goodness, it’s still autumn!!  Temperatures dipped into a frigid minus 15C with wind chills making it feel more like -30C.  Really! Many people disagree with this “wind chill factor”.  Usually  they are persons who usually drive to work and do not have to walk where pockets of nothingness give rise to violent gusts` of bitter cold in your face.  

I have seen snow in October and November many times before,  but I am not sure if I ever had the need to wear a ski mask to protect my face from the cold whipping against my forehead and cheeks…ouch!  It literally felt like an ice cream headache (brain freeze).  

By the weekend, temperatures rose and patches of ice appeared on the sidewalks requiring cleats on your boots [for the old and clumsy like myself]. However, when I was younger I could keep my balance fairly well  on icy patches, shuffling along those tricky areas.  Ah, but with age comes difficulty to keep one’s balance sometimes.  In my case, too many times where I fall flat on my cushion [thank goodness I have a good protective cushion!].  I carry my cleats in my backpack in case temperatures change when I finish my shift between ten and eleven at night as well.  It is a good habit to have for those who want to get to destination safely.

By Sunday morning it was pouring like cats and dogs but the temperatures had not risen enough to make it safe to walk or ride one’s bike anywhere.  Some ice patches were soft and your weight could crush it but others were still holding on to hard icy spots that could make a person slip, slide and crash.  

So I shuffled tentatively along the sidewalks to the bus terminal jabbing my cane on steady ground for stability; I was wearing my long hooded raincoat, and rubber boots and gritted my teeth and swore in “bon Québécois” along the way.  

By the end of the day, rain turned into a swirling mist that may help to maintain the elasticity of one’s complexion but only made my mascara streak my cheeks that turned me into a Pierrot. [Well, I have been called worse!]

 at a snail’s pace

in rubber slippers

footprints on ice
under moonless skies

At a snail’s pace 
  safe journey
 perspicacious paths

(C) Tournesol ‘18/11/25

Daily moments November 25th – slippery slopes (troibun)

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