Through the swirling white sheets of snow, a beacon of pink drew my attention.

It was a little winter hat in a bright shade of rose that flashed a bright hello to passing cars but served also as a signal for automobilists to keep their distance from this gentle pedestrian. She seemed to be overwhelmed with her burdens of a brown paper bag with its contents protected from the storm by another bag of plastic, her own tan shoulder bag, and a pair of shoes it looked like. On a bright sunny day, all this baggage would seem a lot; on this blizzardy afternoon it just seemed to be too much. One could see the frozen winds chill her face with every gust of the frozen flakes. Specks of white colored also her dark jacket.
How much further does she have to walk? and why on earth is she out trudging down a busy road in the middle of winter? since with the clouds precipitating as they are, no one could guess spring is so close.

Busy me had places to go and people to see so I couldn't stop to find out this elderly woman's true story.

But she looked ever so cold.