I went diving the other day. Unfortunately, I was on dry land at the time. The good news is, I am fine. The bad news is, my camera isn’t.
When I got off the bus, the wind was blowing and the air held a hint of rain. I was four blocks from home. “Time to boogie,” I thought. “Or I’m gonna get wet.” I ducked my head and charged into the wind.
Okay, I’m short and fat and my best charge is a brisk walk. Even so, I was moving at a good pace when I reached the first crossroad. I looked over my left shoulder for on-coming traffic without slowing down. I stepped off the curb into a hole and executed a beautiful swan dive onto the pavement.
I landed on my hands and knees by the curb. My satchel landed in the middle of the road. The lens to my camera landed several feet beyond that and rolled to the far curb. I knew before I retrieved it that it wouldn’t be taking any more photos.
I picked it up and went home, pretty much ready to cry. I’d broken a small blood vessel in my left hand and blood pooled under my skin, my right knee was roughed up and seeping blood, but it was my heart that suffered most. No more pictures.