In the life of every good Light Chaser, there comes a time of darkness. I had not intended to go ‘bush’ this morning when I pulled on my favourite plush micro-fleece lounging pants. I needed to get several domestic chores accomplished before heading to my friend’s house for a session of sanity saving coffee and tea.

But… the light came. It came in dappled splashes escaping through a cloud studded sky onto the mountains and rocks and trees. I hurriedly finished my tasks and grabbed my camera, house key, ipod and glasses, and headed off toward the nearby hillside. I was keen to practice the techniques from the photography class I’ve been taking. Recent lessons were in landscape photography and also macro (close up) photography, so I grabbed my tiny little macro lens that fits my iPhone camera and shoved it into my pocket.

Once I arrived on the ridge of the hillside, I began looking for good positions to capture the clouds as well as the dramatic light on the rocks and ranges. I took a few shots but could see I needed a more unique angle to get the composition right. Realising I could squat down and have the rocks in the foreground and the ranges in the background, I ‘assumed the position’. Only problem was, I was on a small incline. As I squatted down, I lost my balance and…

e v e r   s o   g e n t l y   i n   s l o w   m o t i o n—rolled onto my bum and my back. No harm done. Or so I thought.

When I slowly raised myself up—ouch, ouch—OUCH!

Prickles.

I had rolled backward into a whole pile of them. I could feel them pricking me through my fleece pants and jacket with every move I made. And kangaroo poo. Since it is dry, little pebbles, it was more the indignity of rolling in poo that was offensive, rather than the actual evidence of it. I tried to brush the prickles off, but only got them lodged in my hands as a result. Bad move. Because they were on my backside, I couldn’t actually see where they were and my efforts did not have much effect anyway. Prickles hang tightly to nice fleecy fabrics, so they weren’t going anywhere in a hurry.

I decided I’d gotten a few decent photos, and needed to be getting home so I could shower and get to my friend’s house. I started down the hill but got distracted by a lovely bush tomato plant and reached into my pocket for my tiny macro lens… it was gone! Oh, no! My gorgeous new toy gone before I’d learned to use it properly! I knew where I had fallen rolled, (that spot is indelibly etched in my mind) so I returned about a quarter of the way up the hill again to inspect the scene. Thank goodness, I spied the tiny little lens near the base of a clump of grass.

Back down the hill to the place where I had seen the bush tomato. As I was setting up the shot, I reached for my glasses. Gone. Oh dear, and what about my house key… gone. What a goose, I was feeling. How does an intrepid Light Chaser get herself into a situation like this?

Back up the hill to the prickle patch. I scrutinised the area, breath held and fingers crossed for luck. THERE. The glasses, fortunately, in thin red frames were easily seen, dangling from a twig, and underneath them, back in the shadows, my house key. Deep breath, jubilation, let’s get home!

Every step I took, all the way home, was a moment of prickly pain. At home I carefully peeled the clothing off in the laundry and left it for when I returned from my friend’s house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once I finally set to the task, it took just under an hour to remove the prickles from my pants and jacket. It remains to be seen if the tiny spine remnants make them unwearable. They certainly remained lodged in a few places in my hands. In a desperate effort to remove the little devils… I resorted to tools at hand… a pair of 10X jewellers glasses that I use when making jewellery. Unflattering, but effective.

This morning, I used them in the best light in the house, the bathroom, to see if I could apply the tweezers and pull the little spines out of my hands. It worked. I put the glasses down beside the sink and left them there while I showered. On my way out my hands were full and I left them there again. Meanwhile, my husband used the bathroom. Now, here is the question for you all… did he notice them and wonder what in the world his weirdo wife was up to this time? Or did he not even see them at all?

I do love a good adventure and a little mystery, don’t you??