Just as the really hazy thought “Was that a root?” passed through some
unnamed, and seldom used, region of my cerebrum, I lost my balance.
I can usually spell the second sound, the sound you make as you hit the
ground and most, if not all, of the air leaves you lungs. Whumph,
whoomphhhf, ooufm. or some variation.
It is the first sound I was concerned with at the moment. I was making it
as my eyes searched the landing spot for rocks (none), pointy things
(none), and that little distraction of whether or not I will miss the trail
and finally find out what it feels like to slide down two-hundred feet of
grassy, but really steep hillside.
Maybe hnnuhhoumph? Seems close.
Ooumph? Okay, some air is still in the lungs, but I am slipping over; grab
something… no, not on the downhill side, grab something on the uphill
side..huh? Anything, just grab something. Okay. Got some vines. Be still.
It was more high pitched. Haennpheeeeng? Yeah, that’s real close.
Got balance back? Almost. Can I roll left? Uphill? No. Slide your
right hand down and find a grip. What are you doing? Looking at the
driftwood I’m going to roll to a stop against. Push with your right hand.
Okay… any air around here yet?
Okay, I think “whaneieenungh” fits. Yeah. Can I roll over now. Pull on
the vines a little. Okay. Will they hold? I think so. Only need a
couple of inches. Ready. Go. Push. Okay? Yeah, I’m good.
—–Run Gently Out There—–