Contrails, like constant traffic rumbles and roars, are things we tend not to notice. Our brains are brilliant at blocking out extraneous noise. I love a sunrise and a sunset but, almost without exception, they are marked by contrails. We often take these marks for granted, we don’t notice them anymore. This morning, I caught a reflection of a plane in a still puddle of water on the estuary. A straight, purposeful line in the mud and water.
Feeling, seeing. And not wanting to see.
Going out alone to the estuary with my camera always teaches me something, and gives me the space, solitude and time to feel what I see.
I see constant change but also no change at all. I see ever-changing light, patterns, colours and reflections. I see the little tracks and signs left behind by birds and, if I’m really lucky, the determined paw prints of an otter. I see much life, and I am also shocked sometimes by the evidence of suffering. Feathers scattered, red flesh on bones exposed. Despite my empathy and sadness, I am reminded of how this loss can also create and sustain life for others.
The estuary and its wildlife helps me to understand what is important. It also sometimes terrifies me. What if all this life is lost? I become paralysed by the feeling of not being able to do anything. I feel ashamed of my ability, one that has been taught and constantly reinforced by societal values and behaviours, to ignore or, at best, push aside what is truly important.
It makes me ask what on earth are we doing? What fantastic excuses have we invented to justify living and working in the unethical, unsustainable way that many of us do. How have we come to accept that it’s okay to take far more from the earth, its wildlife and people, than is fair or sustainable simply for power, status and economic growth?
I admire the clarity of thought and purpose of Chris Packham, George Monbiot, Kate Raworth and Greta Thunberg. These brave, inspired, forward-thinking people, along with many others, are offering new models for a fairer, more ethical and sustainable future. I can at least try to do my bit by making my home and garden welcoming for wildlife. I can also think about what I buy and where I buy it, about what I eat, and what I need and what I really don’t. There’s much more I can do to lessen my personal impact on the environment and try to improve it.
Photography is a way that I can try to express just some of the sheer joy and wonder that this incredibly beautiful, precious planet with its complex, interconnected life, gives me. It allows me to see a little bit deeper, and can also help simplify things, just for a moment.