A time to get up

To everything turn, turn, turn;

There is a season turn, turn, turn;

A time to fall; a time to get up... (hmmmm?)

It happens to the best of us...

We all fall down.

This one was from the inaugural rollerblading outing with the Beagle. It could have gone better. But... well, it could have gone worse.

The Beagle saw a squirrel. The Beagle wanted to chase the squirrel. I saw a downward slope (hill). I saw a curb. I wanted to hop (lightly) up onto the curb and keep rolling. The rollerblades (extensions of my own feet that they are) did not want to hop (lightly) up onto the curb. They wanted to get stuck on the edge of the curb. The rollerblades won (well, not exactly - they got a little scratched up). The squirrel won. My knee lost (not pictured: my elbow (which also lost)). Maximilian was unscathed (though he was unfulfilled in his squirrel-chasing quest).

There is still a scar (in part because I have trouble leaving scabs be and in another part because - see below).

Same knee, different Beagle story. This one is the result of walking along a sea wall with the Beagle. Beagle jumped down. Leash became taught. I impulsively jumped down to follow (big rocks were waiting to receive my leaping feet below the base of the sea wall).

Did I mention that there was algae on the rocks? And that we were very near the sea (which is full of water (and water is wet)). Algae was slimy, and I slipped. Beagle (with all 20 of his claws for friction) landed seamlessly. Perfect 10 kind of landing.

Not as expansive an injury as the first example, but somewhat deeper and filthier. Scab has just recently subsided to make way for a now purple scar right in the middle of the scars from the previous injury.

This photo is not of the result of falling down, but it seems to fit in with the common theme of leg injuries.

No, I was not crawling through a coal mine.

I was birding in a long-leaf pine forest (wearing shorts, obviously). Long-leaf pine forests sometimes catch on fire (sometimes on purpose, sometimes not). This one still had lots of charred snags and twigs and little trees standing from the last fire.

And there were birds to get to. Many little birds.

So we walked through the thicket for many, many steps. Each step caused charred sticks and thorny vines to thrash my legs (through no fault of the trailblazer (who was wearing jeans) - only through my own fault for wearing shorts). I went home happy and scratched up and not at all regretful about the damage. I saw several new birds (with help - thank you B).

Sometimes I fall down. But usually it is worth it. They should make antibiotic ointment in a pump dispenser for folks like me.

I have a sneaking suspicion that it is even good for a person to get good and scraped up once in a while. It happened all of the time when we were kids, right? Well, it happened to me when I was a kid.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.