I’m glad I crashed my drone into a tree.
A couple weeks ago I bought a drone to expand my capacity for capturing the beautiful places I travel to. Only days after getting it, I got it stuck in the top of a 70-foot tree. I exhausted every solution I could think of to retrieve it—contacting the distributor, then the manufacturer, local tree services and fire departments, researching DIY methods, and so on—with no success.
Then, just when I thought I’d never get it back and have to leave it behind when I wrap up my current trip, a tree service just happened to be working next door. They just happened to bring a bucket truck that day, even though they didn’t need it for the job they were working; and they just happened to be kind, generous people. They agreed to get my drone down for me at no cost.
Now, this drone had been through quite a few storms that rolled up from Hurricane Laura, and I had little hope of it actually working once I got it down. Right away, the gimbal did not appear to be moving properly. When I opened the battery compartment, I found a colony of spiders living inside. Ick. But after carefully extracting them and cleaning it out as best I could, I swapped out the battery and was shocked to find that the drone was still working! I have yet to fly it, but even if it never leaves the ground again, I am grateful for these three things the experience called to my attention:
Kindness makes all the difference. Even if my drone doesn’t fly, these kind people, who took time out of their day to help me, reminded me how good humanity can be. As a stubborn introvert with a dash of pessimism, it’s easy for me to want to ride solo, but humans are social creatures, and community with each other is one of the greatest treasures life has to offer.
Nothing great ever came about by giving up—but everything is gift. Perseverance and hope do not come easily for me when bad things happen. This time though, I pushed myself to try everything I could before accepting failure. Interestingly, success didn’t come from my efforts in the end, but it only came after I’d made them. Call my cheesy but—given the timing and unlikely circumstances lining up just right—I believe that this was a gift from God and a lesson for me to grow in. Trust him and he will make all your paths straight.
Nothing is ever really lost. Throughout life, we lose things and people and parts of ourselves. I lost a drone. I also lost a big part of myself in some personal tragedies over the last year. I lost family members and pets, homes and lifestyles, friends and relationships. But loss is merely an uncomfortable form of change—and with change comes growth, newness, and opportunity. We can see it as a door closed behind us, or as the wide open one in front.
This experience gave me an opportunity to take responsibility for my actions, stretch my creative problem-solving muscles, grow in perseverance and hope, and encounter a fantastic group of kind people. For that, I’m glad I crashed my drone into a tree.
