I arrived an hour after sunrise, later than planned, but hopeful for a meaningful photo. The sun was still low enough to provide long shadows. The first measurable snow fall arrived over night, and I wanted a picture of fresh snow on the Christmas wreathes laid at each head stone in National Cemeteries. Green wreathes with red ribbons would provide nice contrast with the bright white snow.
Eerily quiet: no wind, no cars, no birds. The head stones, simple in design standing at attention in military precision of perfect horizontal, vertical and diagonal lines, all appeared lonely in their last “sentry” meant for eternity. The silence was reverent.
I was too late. Although disappointed that my planned shot was spoiled by a single set of footprints, I was comforted knowing this veteran would not be forgotten.
Thought for the Day: Only the dead have seen the end of war. Plato
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