It was the first snow of the season.
And treacherous, as it turned out.
As I embarked on my morning walk with my Bishon, Millie, the snow was still coming down, muffling the world with quiet.
I passed my neighbors as they cleaned off their driveway. “Be careful,” warned Greg. “It’s slippery. The Big Guy already went down. Hard.”
“The Big Guy” was the man who walked, seemingly almost always at the same time I did, even when I changed the time. He was known as sort of a grump, but he often said hi to me because we seemed to share the same dedication to walking every single day, at the same time.
I picked my way carefully, but I did slip a couple of times. A few hundred yards from my house, I passed “the Big Guy.” “Slippery,” I said. “I already went down,” he said. “Are you ok?” “Yes.”
So I walked on. I soon realized, after paying attention to where it was I slipped, that it was the smooth places that were most treacherous.
The rough places that were not cleared away were actually the safest.