“And Down Goes Miller! Down Goes Miller!!”

Yesterday was a very scary moment for me.

Let me explain.

Yesterday morning, as the snow fell in the Capital Region, I “went fishin'” for the morning – taking pictures at a special location for a year-long project.  Got a good photo here, got a swank photo there.  Now if I drive up this hill, I should be able to get another photo that I want.

No dice.  The road was too slippery and I could not garner enough traction.  So I backed down the hill, stopped the car, got out and assessed my situation.

One step, two…

And down I went.

I must have stepped on some slushy ice or something, because the next thing I know, I fell down on the road, landing on my right shoulder.

Ow ow ow.  I felt like I got sucker-tackled by Vontaze Burfict.

Okay.  Get up slowly, Miller.  Assess the damage.  Make sure everything’s back to normal.  Check the most important things first.

Nikon Df looks okay.  No scratches, no dents, although the shock of the fall caused the tiny write-protect slider in the SD card inside the camera to switch to “locked.”  Simple fix.

Next.  Rotate the arm.  Okay, no sharp pains.  Felt around for any contusions or muscle tears or stabbing pains.  Nope, doesn’t feel like my collarbone or my rotator cuff suffered any cracks or tears or rips or folds or spindles or mutilations.

Okay.  Get a few more pictures and just go home.  Which I did.

Now I suppose I’ve had my share of tumbles over the years.  And in my adult life, they seem to be associated with taking pictures.

Six years ago, for example, I captured this shot of the iconic lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia.

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That morning, after capturing that beautiful shot, I made the tourist’s mistake of trying to walk on the black rocks to locate a better photo.  Yep.  Slipped and fell, tearing my left hand up.   Granted, this picture still won a third-place ribbon in the Vermont State Fair, but still…

Another example. In 2015, as I started working with infrared film, I captured this image at Chittenden’s Falls in Columbia County.  I couldn’t believe that I found this waterfall, and I hoped that I could get an award-winning photo out of the discovery.  

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In order to get to that location, I had to carefully descend down a slippery ravine.  And sure enough, I stepped on what I thought was ground – it was actually grass-covered branches – and down I went.  Ankle hurt for a couple of days.

Still, any time I do have a tumble or a fall, I remember that there were times in my life where my body suffered severe damage.  Not just emotional, but physical.

As a kid, I suffered a left elbow fracture by falling out of the top level of a bunk bed. And by “falling out of the top level of a bunk bed,” I mean that I was yanked out of bed arm-first by a very angry parent, and I landed on the floor elbow-first. Even today, I cannot touch my left shoulder with my left hand because of the elbow damage.

I also have a massive scar on my left knee – I made the mistake of riding on the handlebars of a bicycle that was powered by someone who I thought I could trust – until he suddenly slammed on the brakes, watched me fall onto the street, and laughed his head off while my knee was gushing blood.

There’s a few scars on my skull – one from my biological father who tried to take out his frustrations on me with the use of a claw hammer; one from the neighborhood bullies who cheered as one of them judo-flipped me onto the asphalt pavement; one from my stepfather who winged a glass-filled candle at the back of my temple because I didn’t wake him up in time for work; and one from my first-ex-wife, who threw a glass bottle at my head because – again – I didn’t wake her up in time for work. Geez, you would think my middle name was Westclox or something…

But then again… even after all this… if I’m able to find some beauty in these photographs, if I’m willing to suffer the slings and arrows of pains and falls through all this…

Then maybe in the end, it will all be worth it. And maybe those injuries of the past will remind me that no matter how many times I’m beaten, broken, wounded, injured, disabled … I still find a way to fight back. To not let the pains of the past put chains on my future. Those scars and injuries are memorials. They’re not current events. They’re what happened in the past. And as much as I remember these moments…

I can’t let them take hold of my future.

Right?

And in case you’re curious, the shoulder is still kinda dull today. I’m probably just going to take it easy for the rest of the weekend. But by all means, please feel free to send get-well wishes to the blog comments section below.

And maybe someday I’ll show everyone that “post-fall-on-the-slippery-road” photo I took yesterday.

When this “goin’ fishin” project is complete, that is…