From time to time we discover that life is but a fleeting thing that can end but with a moment’s notice.
Huon Island, Sep 2022. Pentax MX, Portra 800.
It seems appropriate to write a post on death, due to its prevalent presence in my life over the last couple of weeks. And while I haven’t witnessed any of these deaths that I elude to first hand, the news of these deaths have all awakened a response within me which is worth contemplating upon.
It began with the news of the Queen’s death. It wasn’t an unlikely death for she had had a long life, but for some reason the thought of the queen actually corking it never occurred to me. Even though it shouldn’t have been surprising, it was a shock when I discovered it. For as long as I have been alive, the Queen has always been the queen, she has been a constant presence in my life, even if that presence was remote, it seemed strange to think that from one day to the next she was simply gone. I guess even Monarchs cannot outwit the reaper.
I did see the Queen once you know.
It was about twelve years ago, when I used to live in Melbourne and worked at a camping store called Ray’s Outdoors, right near the CBD on Elizabeth St. We knew the Queen was coming for a visit because it was all over the news for a few days before she landed. And sure enough, at some point during the day we heard the police sirens and there came the whole bloody ridiculous convoy of police cars and motorbikes and series of black SUVs. We figured something exciting was about to happen so we stood outside the shop and watched as vehicle after vehicle cruised past. And I noticed that one of the SUVs had the window rolled down in the back. And as that car drove past us on Elizabeth st, there was a flash of pink in that window and there was a burst of excitement that I could barely contain. “Guys, I think we just saw the bloody Queen!”. A second later, all the cars and the Queen were gone. And that was the closest I ever came to meeting the Queen of England.
Yet I did feel some sorrow at the news of her passing. She may not necessarily have been the completely benign monarch all the obituaries have been making her out to be, but neither was she a tyrant. And that goes a long way in my book.
May she rest in peace.
Boats anchored in the Channel. Sep 2022, Pentax MX, Portra 800.
Then came the massive stranding of the pilot whales on the west coast of Tasmania. It wasn’t until I saw a photograph of them all lined up on the beach that the news really hit home. These were all living, breathing mammals just a few days ago, and now they are decomposing bits of flesh.
What made them swim ashore? Did they all do it by accident, or on purpose? Is it possible that the whales decided to commit mass suicide for a reason we don’t understand? For a creature that’s incredibly intelligent, how can they all simultaneously make such a simple, but fatal error?
The mysterious nature of this mass stranding awakened questions for me that I know will be just about impossible to answer. Although through the course of the correct enquiry, one day the answers may be found.
May they rest in peace.
Little boat in Huon estuary. Sep 2022, Pentax MX, Portra 800.
And finally, I discovered the death of a friend this week.
Mathew Farrell, aged 42. He died when his solo aircraft went down in the Victorian Alps. He was an accomplished adventurer, filmmaker and all round good bloke.
I got acquainted with Mat during the making of Winter on the Blade, for he helped us with the more technical sides of the production. Mat was incredibly knowledgeable about so many things, and he was always willing to say yes and help out where he could. He lived a full life, and a good life. It seems so bizarre that he too, along with the Queen and along with the whales, is present no more.
May he rest in peace.
Pair of swans, Gordon. Sep 2022, Pentax MX, Portra 800.
-A.S. Lenah Valley 24/9/22