We have low-hanging tree branches that may or may not have the potential to gauge out your eyes. We don’t have a strong likelihood of a street corner stabbing or other violent public encounter.

When I consider the former, I think of my city, Burlington, which is so comparably devoid of crime that it doesn’t much enter our daily conversations or affect municipal policy. In contemplating the latter, I think of Hamilton, my hometown and the most troublesome parts of it. Fights, stabbings and even shootings are not uncommon. (Still, they’re practically nonexistent in comparison with many major U.S. metropolitan areas.)

You’d think I don’t have much to complain about here in terms of looming physical danger. Relatively speaking, that’s true. Ceding that point, allow me to introduce to you the hazards that we do have, the ones that ought to cause concern for those of us who are lucky enough not to have to worry much about vicious beatings.

Place your tongue slightly, just barely, in cheek and understand these hazards aren’t native to us.

First, there is the aforementioned and ever ominous low-hanging tree branch. While these limbs may not pose a danger to many, they certainly cause havoc for a six-foot-five inch tall runner. I’ve met branches that could have altered my appearance, had I not seen them the instant before they would have assaulted my face.

That’s the problem with branches that hang less than seven feet from the ground. They’re not so visible, especially when you’re concentrating on pace and breathing, rather than downward hanging things. They cause extra problems in the winter when you’re fixated on the ground, hunting for dangerous patches of ice. When it comes to tree branches, I have a simple plea: cut them higher!

Ice is the next problem and it’s tough to hang any blame. There’s going to be ice, and probably lots of it, every winter in Canada. So we stay away from it when it’s exceptionally slippery, like when temperatures plummet following freezing rain.

You can’t shovel ice but you sure can remove snow, yet some home owners, namely those with the largest properties on the lake shore, don’t. Their sidewalks are often treacherous because of snow that wasn’t removed, and was subsequently covered by combinations of more snow and rain and ice. That spells more trouble for walkers, dog walkers, runners and even cyclists. I’m three for four in that department. (I don’t cycle in winter.) I have another plea here: if you’re going to buy a large property, you’re going to have to shovel your entire sidewalk. Or, get someone to do it for you.

Winter also gives us unlighted people who love to wear dark clothing and then are upset that we didn’t see them as we nearly run them over with our vehicles. I don’t want to preach but I know they need to do what I do: carry a small flashlight that makes them at least a little visible. When you’re crossing a busy intersection while wearing a coat that’s blacker than black ought to be, it may just save your life.

Cyclists need to have more than just a flashlight. Unfortunately, many of them have neither a light on the front of their bikes nor a reflector on the back. They don’t typically wear a reflective vest either and way too many of them don’t use a helmet. And, they’re not careful as they pretend they’re a car … a version that’s far smaller, infinitely less visible and way more likely to get hit by accident.

That brings me to the cars that they try to emulate. As a runner who takes every possible precaution to be careful and visible, I’m dumbstruck by the number of drivers who still come far too close for comfort, and often nearly run me over. I never run or walk in front of a car unless I’ve made eye contact with the driver. I can’t account for the unbelievable number of drivers that fail to look back, for one reason or another. Most often, they don’t look both ways before turning. I know because I watch them. If I didn’t stop, I’d be road paste. There’s no way they can’t see me. I’m six-and-a-half feet tall. Plus, when I leave my house for a run or walk and it’s even slightly dark, I’m lit up like a Christmas tree. I wear an orange jacket covered by a reflective vest and I carry a powerful handheld flashlight. That means drivers that don’t see me are careless, or worse.

I hope I don’t sound preachy. I’m just trying to stay safe in my Burlington, and make sure that others do the same. Thank you for being so safe, my neighbours. In general, I mean. Now please go check your neighbourhood for low-hanging tree branches. Bring a pruner.