The Shot I Fell Off The Bridge For

It had snowed. Alot. Like about 5 feet in 3 days. When that happens, it changes where the edges of things appear to be.

I saw this scene taking shape and snowshoed out to greet it. Set up my tripod on the little bridge over the creek that feeds the lake. With the sunset about to peak, I looked up, took a step back... and fell off the bridge right onto my back in the creek. Someone let out schoolgirl shriek. Certainly that was not me. And yet... I was alone. sigh. Lying there in the slush, I looked up again - and saw my camera and tripod dangling by a mere participle above me. Luckily, it wasn't heavy enough the break through and join my little creek party jam. I had to scramble out on my hands and knees, because my snowshoes wouldn't grab in the voluminous, drifty snow. This gorgeous painting of a moment graciously hovered until I got my shot.



©Karen Hutton - Creative Commons (CC BY-NC 3.0)

And in the end, that's all that really counts.

The Shot I Fell Off The Bridge For

It had snowed. Alot. Like about 5 feet in 3 days. When that happens, it changes where the edges of things appear to be.

I saw this scene taking shape and snowshoed out to greet it. Set up my tripod on the little bridge over the creek that feeds the lake. With the sunset about to peak, I looked up, took a step back... and fell off the bridge right onto my back in the creek. Someone let out schoolgirl shriek. Certainly that was not me. And yet... I was alone. sigh. Lying there in the slush, I looked up again - and saw my camera and tripod dangling by a mere participle above me. Luckily, it wasn't heavy enough the break through and join my little creek party jam. I had to scramble out on my hands and knees, because my snowshoes wouldn't grab in the voluminous, drifty snow. This gorgeous painting of a moment graciously hovered until I got my shot.



©Karen Hutton - Creative Commons (CC BY-NC 3.0)

And in the end, that's all that really counts.