Debris

A sombre day weatherwise and in addition I could not dispel images of the aftermath of the typhoon in the Philippines. These swirling water-borne leaves, the result of recent high winds and tides, reminded me of the devastation revealed by aerial photographs.

What must it do to you to see your community flattened, neighbours sprawled dead all around and the roads filled with familiar figures walking aimlessly with shell-shocked expressions, searching for relatives, for food and water where there is none to be had?

Very soon there are reports of 'looting', a morally-laden word that seems to invite disapproval. As if those involved were greedy rather than needy. But in such circumstances wouldn't anyone who was physically capable search out and salvage whatever goods were to be had, whether to eat, to use for shelter or succour, or to sell, exchange or share? In circumstances where everything is lost, from homes and personal effects to family members to the entire superstructure of society, who wouldn't attempt to scavenge whatever was available, however inappropriate it seemed, as some sort of bolster against the worse that was inevitably to come?

'Looting' is a survival mechanism that implies resilience: it is the individuals who are stunned into helplessness, left devoid of energy and impetus, that are the most likely to be swirled away by the tide of disaster.