I was convinced that as I got more grown-up, the things that upset me would become fewer and it would take more and more to make me sad… I was wrong. In fact, I had things completely upside down. Is it that there is more tragedy around? Probably not. Maybe instead I’m growing more compassionate. Although to be honest, I would happily stop at my current level otherwise I will need shares in a tissue company. Seriously.
It’s ANZAC Day. My growing empathy now means I now can’t hear the Last Post without welling up and that never used to happen.
I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m definitely more moved since travelling – it could be walking the same paths as our long-passed soldiers, seeing the graves on the Western Front and realising most of them belong to men younger than me makes it more real than just reading words on a page.
Or it could be that the enormity of what some people gave up for their countries is just too big for words. My words, certainly.
This is supposed to be blog about photography and the nonsense that makes me tick, but some things are so much bigger than my frivolousness.