The most terrifying moment of my life…
I don’t, as a general rule, get terrified. I’m a pretty damned rational person. To be terrified I would actually have to be in a terrifying situation, not a worrying one nor even scary but downright, out and out terrifying.
There are two that I can think of, on different sides of a scale.
In yesterday’s entry I mentioned that I don’t walk through fields of cows. I have walked through many fields of cows in my life until August 1999 when I was out cycling. I saw a short cut through a field, it was signposted as a right of way so I got off the bike and walked through the field. One cow broke off from the rest and headed diagonally towards me, looking to cut me off as I carried on. I didn’t want to run and encourage it to charge as I had a lot of field to cross still. As I almost reached the other side it picked up speed, galloping at me. I don’t remember how I got myself and my bike over the stile, just that it reared up on it’s back legs, only three feet from me.
With the fence between us, I turned to find the owner of the next field hadn’t respected the rules of country Rights of Way, allowing his crops and a huge quantity of nettles to grow across it.
Very angry cow v nettles = very stung legs!
The other. That was the midnight phone call and the terror which existed in what felt like a lifetime between being told that my parents had been in a car accident and finding out that my mum hadn’t made it.
The emotions afterwards cannot be described, but those few moments were pure terror of the unknown.
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