“Guys.”
“Hey guys”
“I need some help”
“GUYS!”
“ANDREW?”
“BRYCE?”
“HELP!”
Nothing but the swarming buzz of Andrew’s drone.
I survey the situation.
Flat on my bum. My legs wedged either side of a large rock. An ominous looking thistle peering over my right shoulder. A spider web that I’d been dodging not too far in front of me. Camera and tripod safe in my right hand. My left hand positioned at an odd angle to my arm. That’s the end of this morning’s sunrise shoot we’ve been waiting two years for.
Sorry guys.
I negotiated with the thistle and eventually wriggled, pulled, pushed, slid and manoeuvred myself into a standing position, got Bryce’s attention to round up Andrew and the drone, and then very carefully, using the tripod as a splint and long ago memories of breathing exercises to manage pain, I walked past the beautiful golden morning sun lighting up the reeds and grasses framing Lake Burumbeet, and headed for the car and onto Ballarat hospital.
I have a lot to be grateful for. The broken wrist bones didn’t need to be pinned. Just manipulated back into place and then plastered. It’s summer, so I don’t have to deal with jumpers and skivvies and jackets over a plaster cast. I broke my left wrist and I’m right handed. My workload at the moment is manageable. I only missed one day of work and successfully (I think) completed a 6 hours class yesterday. I don’t think it will interfere with any bigger plans. I can manage most things so far but I do have wonderful people around me to help. I have plenty of painkillers. You get lots of attention and sympathy when you have an obvious malady. I did manage to get a couple of photos before I fell. And the camera lives on.
But it’s been 3 days now. And I’m over it. Can I take the confounded thing off now? It’s fucking itchy!
(39 days to go)
