I saw her drop. She landed on her backside. Her phone skidded across the icy road. A sympathetic 'oh no' came out both of mine and my friend's mouth simultaneously and a passer-by asked if she was okay. She was, thankfully, though I am sure her phone took some serious damage, and possibly her dignity too.
I love this time of year. I love Christmas, and I love hearing the snow crunch beneath my feet and, even though I'm 20 years old I still love making a good frumpy snowman.
What I don't like is the danger that accompanies this winter weather. The temperatures quickly drop and the paths become a free-for-all ice rink. Slipping over in front of people, becomes a dreaded fear of mine.
However when I first spotted the snow falling as I looked out of my window on that Sunday afternoon in November, I knew I needed to make the most of it, and also avoid writing my essay. So I decided to accept my friends offer to go for a snowy stroll around Leicester in the evening.
The walk into town was dangerous from the get-go. My feet slipped all the way across the DMU campus, a string of swear words falling out of my mouth. It was a battle to stay upright. But we eventually made it into town where we could stop to admire the Christmas lights and take photos and pretend not to feel the cold chill seeping through our coats.
The walk back from the town, however, was even more of a battle than the walk there. We ended up walking down less trodden or slanted paths where the ice was at its sparkling worst and we were clinging to each other for dear life. We were Bambis on ice.
That's when we saw the woman slip and I had this clinging fear that I would be next. We crossed the bridge and I was holding onto the rails. Then we hear a skidding noise and see a bike rider fall off his bike. He brushes himself off, gets back on his bike and rides attentively off.
Thankfully, I wasn't next. Though I did almost slip 100 times or more, my heart beating out of my chest every time, I made it home without injury.
My nose and my fingers were pink, my muscles stiff, and my shoes wet, but I hadn't fallen over. I was safe in the warmth of my bedroom.
But I can't help to think of the future, when I'm older and my bones are weaker than they are now. Will I still love this time of year? Will I love Christmas? Will I love the sound of snow beneath my feet and love making snowmen? Or will I stay indoors for the fear slipping on ice and breaking my hip? I don't know. But I hope this joy I feel for snow lasts forever.
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