The weather did let up yesterday afternoon and the sun even broke through. I decided to head to Westernhanger to snap the tour; plenty of time to frame the shot and a train, or trains, at speed. Nice. So with over an hour before showtime, i headed off to the other side of Folkestone, took the Hythe road and headed down to the old race course and the station.
A couple of younger lads were there, setting up a video camera. They were at the far end of the platform, and I was right at the other end, hoping if the tour was late i could get some illumination from the platform lights. As things turned out, I was right to think that way.
It is a sad fact that here in Dover and at Beachy Head, there are dozens of memorials to those who have chosen to travel there to end their lives. I can't say I understand that, but they must be in a very dark place indeed. However to drive to such a beautiful place to end their lives seems odd to me. As does throwing themselves under a train: there is the thoughts of the driver, the emergency services and those who have to clean up. I mention this as yesterday, a woman chose to end her life in Faversham by throwing herself under a train. My thoughts go out to her family and friends of course.
What the disruption meant to me was that the tour was delayed. And delayed. The sun set, and it began to get dark. And then almost an hour later it came round the bend in the half light. My lens could not focus in that low light, so I switched to manual. I got some shots, a couple of which were useable. even with the 50mm on the 400D, with f1.4, I was only getting 1/15th of a second and so the motion of the locomotives were very blurred. But the shots were effective.
I headed back to Dover, calling in at the Rack of Ale to pick up Matt's gloves that he had left behind last week. And it would have been rude not to have a swifter just to be social. I had a fine pint of Christmas porter, which was excellent.
When I got home Jools told me that she had been offered tickets for a show at Wembley on Monday featuring some Dutch fiddle player, and it involved a night away; did I mind? So, that's sorted, all of Monday, Monday night and Tuesday morning just me and them cats; what could go wrong?
I cooked steak and ale pie for dinner, which was perfect as i starving. Not really starving, but you know, it were great food, and I polished the fist of the bottles of red I got from Calais earlier this month. Very drinkable!
Monday.
I worked from home today, as the weather was going to be so grim. And I had to drop Jools off Dover Priory at half nine. So, I wrote a few mails, played around with a spreadsheet. Dropped Jools off, came back, worked some more. And then I saw no one else was on line, so I thought, why not, lets start Christmas early! So at half one I brewed up, cut a slice of Dundee cake and sat down to watch some TV as the wind began to howl outside.
Now it is dark, and it is blowing a proper hoolie out there. Ferries can't dock and folks are going to have to spend the night moored out in shelter of the Goodwins. I hope we will have a shed in the morning. Heck, I hope we'll have a house in the morning! It is going to be lively to say the least.
2 comments:
Dark places are just that, Ian..people don't choose to end their lives lightly, nor do they do it without consideration for the feelings of those they leave behind, or affect through the physical means of their death. Someone I know of, a young man who to the world seemed to have so much in his favour, ended his life under a train. He was only in his mid twenties, and while he had ensured that relatives were informed of his reasons, the most touching thing I found about the story was that in his remains those who recovered the body found a letter he had written apologising in advance to the train driver. It brings a tear to my eye to think of a person being in such a black place, and yet to be so painfully aware of the consequences of his actions that his concern was first for the stranger who saw him last...
The things that make us feel we matter - to the world, to others, to ourselves - can disappear very quickly. One of the tenets of Buddhism - 'There is nothing more certain of the fact that you will die. There is nothing less certain of when you will die...' - always comes to mind. The last, desperate act of the suicide, is ironically to disprove this tenet...by choosing the moment of death, by taking that control, the individual in effect is cheating Buddha...
Stay happy, Ian...
Rob,
Being someone who jos naturally 'glass half full', sometimes I struggle to imagine how dark those places must be. It is better I, we, don't.
We do see the memorials of those who have chosen to end their lives here on the white cliffs: a small pot of flowers, an envelope weighed down by a stone. I find that hard to understand, with so much of life and the world yet to see and experience.
Although I do know that had things worked out differently, I could have found myself living on the streets, or horribly in debt with nowhere to turn.
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