I was standing at a very busy crossroads in the middle of town. The kind you don't try to walk across without the little man turning green because there seems to be no logic whatsoever in the rhythm of cars stopping and going. That crossroads and I have known each other for years yet I still have not discovered the magic moment when everything is brought to a halt and - if your timing is good - it is still safe to cross despite the fact that everything is still glowing a stubborn red.
So, I was standing at this particularly busy crossroads in the middle of town when two very aged gentlemen reached the height of the kerb on which I was waiting and stood there for a very brief moment by my side. I don't know what pushed them to cross the road. I don't think it was the consequence of any deep reflection but more a mixture of distraction, a blind belief in destiny and the privilege of old age. Whatever it was, they did. Cross the busy road. Hand in hand.
The two of them tottered across and the cars made their way around them the way a river flows around a stone. Not a hoot. Not an angry shout from their drivers. Just respect and awe for the sheer madness of two old men who were no more at a point in their life when they waited patiently to be told when to make a move.
