We live on a side street in Morningside Heights, in Manhattan, and the wind sweeps up off of the river, especially in winter. J. is still using a cane, and wind makes him feel even unsteadier than his feet do. As we walked up toward Broadway, the wind was at our back and not too strong. We slowly got to Broadway, where there weren’t many people. The only obstacle he had to watch out for was a pink balloon at eye level tied to a storefront and bouncing erratically from air currents when the store door opened.When we turned at the next corner, the wind was in our faces. J. walked a short distance until he felt the wind more an enemy than a zephyr – and we retraced our steps. I’m glad he decided not to forge ahead; walking slowly is hard on my back. When we were first together, I was the slow walker, and I often had to run to catch up; now he is the one pulling at my coat to slow down. I’m also glad it’s March, because it has to get warmer, and soon J. will be walking outside every day, and by himself.