SPRING
The weather forecast for the day had suited Syd for a trip into the outdoors. He strode along the track with a spring in his step.
Sunlight, filtered by the tree tops, shimmered around him. He was in a temperate rainforest, his nose filled with the prevailing odour of decaying vegetation on the wet forest floor. Birdcalls enchanted his ears, and the noise of cicadas played a background orchestra to their singing.
He heard mountain bikers coming towards him, on the track, before he saw them and moved over to the edge so that he could let them pass. Not that he liked sharing his space with people who didn’t prefer to walk.
There were three cyclists who, as they passed, acknowledged his courtesy.
Just as he was about to step back on the path the earth suddenly gave way under his feet. He fell backward. The initial contact with the ground (flat on his back) was shock enough even if he hadn’t immediately started rolling downhill. On a steep slope, he went through and over slippery undergrowth. At any minute, he expected to smash into the trunk of a tree. By good fortune, he avoided that but went over the edge of an even steeper bank. It was not high but ended on rocks beside the bed of a stream. One of his legs and one arm took the impact. The pain was the worst he had ever felt in his life. He blacked out.
“Sorry to take so long, Syd,” he heard the voice of his walking companion, Harry.
Syd pried open his eyelids but only as far as he could while wincing in agony. He stared at his friend and tried to speak but could only groan.
“It took me almost ten minutes to work my way down the slope safely.” Now that he had arrived, Harry did not seem to know what more to do. “The mountain bikers kept riding. I guess they didn’t know you’d fallen. I was too slow in realizing they could have helped, and they were out of sight before I thought of it.”
‘Damn old fool,’ Syd thought to himself, despite his pain. ‘Ten minutes to climb down a slope that only took me half a minute to roll down. We’re both too old for this sort of thing.’
“Where are you hurt?” Harry wanted to know.
“Can you get up? I can help you. It looks pretty uncomfortable on the rocks.”
“Don’t,” Syd warned. “I’m pretty sure my arm and my leg are broken. I don’t want to move.”
“Shit,” Harry exclaimed.
“Use your cellphone and call emergency.”
Harry seemed to agree that was a good idea. Meanwhile, Syd tried to make his injured leg more comfortable. He blacked out again.
Later, he was half aware of being sedated for pain, of being in a helicopter, and of it landing on the roof of the hospital. He was aching all over, on top of the agony in his broken bones, but was subjected to ex-rays and scans before being pronounced to have been lucky, at his age, to have no injuries other than the two he had diagnosed himself.
For several weeks Syd was on crutches. Not so easy with a broken arm, but soon after the plaster was cut off he was out in the countryside again. This time there was not so much spring in his step.
Sunlight, filtered by the tree tops, shimmered around him. He was in a temperate rainforest, his nose filled with the prevailing odour of decaying vegetation on the wet forest floor. Birdcalls enchanted his ears, and the noise of cicadas played a background orchestra to their singing.
He heard mountain bikers coming towards him, on the track, before he saw them and moved over to the edge so that he could let them pass. Not that he liked sharing his space with people who didn’t prefer to walk.
There were three cyclists who, as they passed, acknowledged his courtesy.
Just as he was about to step back on the path the earth suddenly gave way under his feet. He fell backward. The initial contact with the ground (flat on his back) was shock enough even if he hadn’t immediately started rolling downhill. On a steep slope, he went through and over slippery undergrowth. At any minute, he expected to smash into the trunk of a tree. By good fortune, he avoided that but went over the edge of an even steeper bank. It was not high but ended on rocks beside the bed of a stream. One of his legs and one arm took the impact. The pain was the worst he had ever felt in his life. He blacked out.
“Sorry to take so long, Syd,” he heard the voice of his walking companion, Harry.
Syd pried open his eyelids but only as far as he could while wincing in agony. He stared at his friend and tried to speak but could only groan.
“It took me almost ten minutes to work my way down the slope safely.” Now that he had arrived, Harry did not seem to know what more to do. “The mountain bikers kept riding. I guess they didn’t know you’d fallen. I was too slow in realizing they could have helped, and they were out of sight before I thought of it.”
‘Damn old fool,’ Syd thought to himself, despite his pain. ‘Ten minutes to climb down a slope that only took me half a minute to roll down. We’re both too old for this sort of thing.’
“Where are you hurt?” Harry wanted to know.
“Can you get up? I can help you. It looks pretty uncomfortable on the rocks.”
“Don’t,” Syd warned. “I’m pretty sure my arm and my leg are broken. I don’t want to move.”
“Shit,” Harry exclaimed.
“Use your cellphone and call emergency.”
Harry seemed to agree that was a good idea. Meanwhile, Syd tried to make his injured leg more comfortable. He blacked out again.
Later, he was half aware of being sedated for pain, of being in a helicopter, and of it landing on the roof of the hospital. He was aching all over, on top of the agony in his broken bones, but was subjected to ex-rays and scans before being pronounced to have been lucky, at his age, to have no injuries other than the two he had diagnosed himself.
For several weeks Syd was on crutches. Not so easy with a broken arm, but soon after the plaster was cut off he was out in the countryside again. This time there was not so much spring in his step.
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