One day during our roadtrip through Scotland my boyfriend and I decided to go for a walk on Balnakeil Beach. I decided to wear my walking shoes as an experiment, since for months I exclusively walked on my orthopedically adapted shoes. These shoes are great for city walking, but at times I missed the grip real walking boots have, especially on uneven terrains.
The beach was amazingly beautiful. We went early in the morning, when the light was still soft. Since it just had rained the only other people we encountered were a few dog walkers instead of the hordes of tourists our B&B host had told us would arrive in the afternoon.
Since I needed to count my steps to learn about my pain limits everyday AND wore different shoes I didn't yet know about how they would influence my pain levels, I was careful with the amount of walking I did. After some wading through water and walking places to find the best shots I told my boyfriend: "My feet have had enough already, please go take a bigger walk yourself, I'm happy enough just sitting in the dunes and watching the sea".
I do this often: encourage my boyfriend to walk and be okay with leaving me behind. He is a very athletic person whose body often screams for a bigger fast-paced walk, and he often has to inhibit himself while walking with me. I am totally happy just sitting still at one spot and take a place all in. So, after he made sure I really didn't mind being alone, he went. Only to come back after 45 minutes or so to exclaim: "I think there's cows on that beach!"
I laughed. When do you see cows on a beach? I had never.
I looked at my step counter and knew I shouldn't walk too much that day. After all, every place you get to also means a return walk. But here I was, this photographer, on a beach in Scotland, knowing that 'close' to my sitting place I could take pictures of cows on a beach!
Suddenly I was determined. I would go. Ignore the pain. Ignore the limitations. Just GO.
And I went.
We walked through gorgeous green grassy dunes, and after a while we arrived at a natural viewpoint. There they were: the cows!
I loved it. But, as a photographer I know I always need to get closer. We walked on, until we didn't see the cows anymore but I knew we had to be close to them. The only thing separating me from them were some very skewed sandy dunes from the path down to the beach.
This was a real challenge: downwards walking hurts my feet the most of all, and after all, I had already passed my walking limits of that day. But I wanted to go. With the help of my boyfriend, who scouted the 'friendliest' paths for me first and then held my hand all the way down I got closer and closer to the beach.
A mother and a calf. I knew getting closer would not be possible, since a mother will always protect her young. So I observed, and observed. Many cows had already been walking to another part of the beach. But these two were the ones staying behind.
I just sat still, waiting for them to join their group. At some point the mother look at her young, stood up, and started walking. I looked at the calf: would she join her mother? Why didn't she go?
Then she stood up as well. And went walking. And my mouth dropped. She limped! Her left foreleg was not fully functional, and she had to limp all the way to her group.
What you have to know: I often experience most pain after I'm resting for a few minutes. So at this point all the pain from the walk creeped up in my foot, and I knew standing up alone would be hell. But I was so baffled at that moment. Not often do you realise or see animals get hurt too. That little calf was overcoming her own challenges, but didn't have a blog to write about her pain. She just had to deal with it, and try to keep up with the group.
In her own pace.
Slowly I stood up, and limped my own way back to our car.
All pictures on steemit.com/@soyrosa are created and edited by me, Rosanne Dubbeld, 2001-2018. Contact me if you want to discuss licensing or collaborations on creative projects :-)