You really can’t expect the unexpected. Although I guess on some level I expected it…
I ate shit today. My feet kicked out from under me while I was crossing a street, I had stepped on a big ol’ smooth patch of ice gracefully donated by winter.
As I was being grabbed backwards by gravity, I had a Matrix moment. On my back I was carrying my camera and 7 lenses. Somehow I managed to hoist my back upright so I didn’t land on my gear. Instead, my ass took one for the team.
It was such exquisite pain that knocked the air out of my lungs.
“You OK?” Asked a pedestrian that was not at all concerned, it probably just felt like an obligation to ask. I didn’t know. I could barely get back up, but I was sure any contact with the ground was squarely on me and minimally on my camera bag.
While the murder podcast still blared in my earbuds, I crawled to the sidewalk. When I tried to stand I thought all the joints in my lower body would collapse.
Several hours later, grateful that none of my lenses were in pieces, I went back outside to take some pictures. Because that’s what you do when you’re down and wounded, but the most precious thing to you survived an event unscathed.