I was on holiday last week but it was far from the relaxing week I anticipated, work was very intrusive with lots of calls and mails which I had to respond to, but far more significant was the call I received early in the week to say that a young colleague in my team had been suddenly taken ill and had died early that morning.
Very hard to understand how something so tragic could happen so suddenly.
This event totally dominated my thinking and behaviour during the week.
In my photojournal post for 2 April I wrote
Today has been a very sad and emotional day. I learned early today that a young colleague in my team had been taken ill and died this morning. Sudden, unexpected and absolutely tragic.
I have spent some time deciding if I should post today and if I did, what could I use that could in any way represent my feelings and immense sadness.
When I got the news I was already out walking so faced the dilemma of whether to turn back or continue. There is no right answer.
Todays image shows a view into the distance, a reminder that none of us knows really whats to come, we think we can see ahead, we plan for the future, but the unexpected is always just around the corner.
I have tears in my eyes as I am writing this and the only thought I can leave with you is to forget the small things and live every day to make today the best day of your life so far.
Despite this sadness life does go on for everyone else, so I spend time walking, photographing and reflecting on life, particularly the balance between work and personal life.
Why would i continue to work when I could spend my time walking and photographing in the landscape
My question is whether what is now a pleasure, at least partly because its different from what I can do most of the time, would become less interesting if I could do it all the time?
In the photograph, taken in the early morning on a cold bright day, you can see just see ice on the surface of the lake, standing on the shore you could see the ice being blown to one end of the lake by the slight breeze, and listen to the crunching noise as it slowly piled up on the shore of the lake.
A fleeting moment, with just an hours more sun most of the ice was gone, the lake surface was rippled by the breeze as the lake and the land around started to warm, a totally different scene.
This second shot, taken on a different day shows a colder view with the broken ice clear in the foreground.
Each morning we were woken by the sound of a bird knocking against the window. Again and again this little bird flew at the glass trying to get inside the building. I think this is a house martin, trying to get inside to build a nest with some shelter from the weather. Day after day this bird tried to get inside.
On returning from the UK To our home in the Netherlands I immediately left again for a few days meeting and team building in the Swiss Alps ski resort at Les Closets, another strange week as today we fly back for the funeral of my young colleague.
Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, ends with a tear. When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one smiling and everyone around you is crying.