The Memorial

While we're on this death trip - and while I'm busy cataloguing my work - I thought I'd share this with you.

I spent the first couple of weeks of this year down south, cruising around, impressing small town people with my big city ways etc. It was the first time I'd been to the West Coast since 1987 (from memory), and being summer, it rained every day.

One place I wanted to go, if it was possible, was Cave Creek - a place etched in the mind of many people, even though most haven't been there. It was a very moving experience.

Cave Creek itself is a stunning location. Just beautiful. Lush, green, peaceful. The drive up the river valley to the start of the walk is also gorgeous. Most of the walk is easy uphill strolling through scrubby bush, and just as you're getting sick of that the track drops down into lush bush and to the creek itself.

Knowing the history of the site, you can't help but notice the large slip and get hit by the realisation of what it means. The above image was taken at the front edge of the slip - a small, subtle, but beautiful memorial to those who died.

What got to me most was the realisation of what those who survived, and particularly those who went for help, went through. It's not an easy place to get to, especially if you're in a hurry to get out, or needing to get numerous emergency vehicles and personnel in.

It is a sad place (of course the downpour that started just as I got there helped to make it more evocative). A place whose beauty hides the events of April 28, 1995. There is no great memorial, which is how I think it should be. To my mind it's enough for people to go there, pay their respects, and give thanks.