Another sunny day to walk. Temperatures in the high 50’s or lower 60’s. A perfect day.

My day begins as I chat with an older English couple taking their morning walk. He is from Wales; she is from London. After working in Houston for years. “You must be in oil” I reply. “What else?” “We didn’t want to live in the far west coast of Wales; we didn’t want to live in busy London, so we had to figure out a nice place to live. We chose Sidmouth.” A lovely choice!

The day is a typical day. Up one hill. Sit and look at the coastal views. Down another hill. Drink some water. Up the next hill.

This day’s walk becomes a bit different. I’m walking through the undercliff area. Although the path normally moves to the top of the cliffs, today the path goes through an area between the top of the cliffs and the seashore. The cliffs collapsed 150 years and over time vegetation has grown in this uneven piece of land.

On this part of the path, I’m walking anywhere from 100-150 feet above the seashore. In a way, it is like walking part of Stone Mountain’s Cherokee trail as it moves through the woods and shrubs. Of course, without the seacoast below me.

I occasionally meet people walking the other direction. Usually when I walk, since I’m walking solo, I step to the side to allow the couple, the couple and the dog, the two couples with two dogs, or the group of eight to pass.

On this occasion, as I’m walking, I meet a single young man. I let him pass. In a few feet and around a bend, I meet two young women. I let them pass. As I’m looking up, I see two middle-aged women, their mothers walking toward me. I let them pass. I start down the trail and reach another bend. As I go around the bend, the father, the husband, notices me, as I notice him. Both seeing each other at the same time. Quicker than me, he steps off the trail to make way for me. Nice of him.

The problem is that there is nothing next to the path. In places, the path is deceptive. Sometimes there is “no shoulder” to move onto. In this case, the man starts to sink out of sight! Moving in slow motion, he disappears into a thicket of brambles and shrubs. Yikes. I’m thinking this man is going to hit the rocks or the beach 100 feet below!

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I got a hold of some thick shrubs.” He may be fine in that he stopped falling down the cliff; he is not fine in that he is 3-4 feet below me. He’ll be fine when his feet are back on the path.

I yell for help. “Hold my walking pole until one of your group comes back.” Less than a minute later, his son and I are pulling him back onto the path. “Well, that was different!” Yup it was! I explain to the rest of the family that he was acting kindly toward me, stepping off the path to allow me to pass. Yet, his kindness went awry. As every walker knows, as every person who practices Tai Chi, one should always knows where one’s foot is going to be placed!

After he had steadied himself, he asked me to take photos. Afterwards I showed them to him, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want any photos. I’ll remember well enough.”

A close call. Kindness gone awry. Actions, even those well-intentioned, can become the opposite of what is intended. He meant to help me; instead, he almost had a close call! In a matter of seconds, an act of kindness becomes an accident. There is a lesson somewhere in this incident for us all.