fall from grace...

Somewhere near this spot I lost my footing on the path. It was wet and slick with spray and I must have slipped over the edge.

Or was I pushed?

I fell a long way. It felt like my whole life, falling. Like maybe I had started out at one place, but had been going down ever since.

I was scared, I admit it. I screamed. Later I was told that I screamed like a girl!

But somehow I managed to gather my wits. As I plummeted down down down into the core of earth's oblivion, I curled myself into a tight protective foetal position. I became a hurtling homunculous. And my fall attained the certain destiny and mathematical precision of a flaming meteor, tracing the downward path of gravity's rainbow.

My entry into the roiling waters of the Zambezi was abrupt, violent, the explosion of a perfect cannonball. The spray from my dive arced high up into the atmosphere. Many visitors would feel that splash, even if they didn't understand what caused it.

On the arduous climb back up the sides of the steep crevasse, I had several hours to contemplate the significance and mystery of my downfall.

Did I slip?

Or was I pushed?

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, April 2008.

Rolleiflex T, Fomapan 200.