Without wishing to set a tune off in your head, it seems to me that we all live our lives like candles in the wind. Not that we have much choice, the winds going to blow whether we want it to or not. Of course, just how long we glow for before we gutter depends on the strength of the wind. A breeze might keep us alight, but a gale would snuff us out in an instant. Even so, we all give out at least a little light along the way; some more than others, but finally we are all taken by the dark.
It’s not something I think much about. Musing on my own mortality is one of those subjects that can wait until later, much later I hope; but it’s always there at the back of your mind isn’t it?
Apparently we are the only creatures on this planet that are aware that we aren’t going to be around for ever. Just how we know this I have no idea, but maybe the rest of the animal kingdom are aware of the end, just better at dealing with it. I’ve heard tales of whale graveyards where those mighty creatures go to end their days. If they decide they are going there, then surely they must have an inkling about what they are going there for.
Of course whales were once hunted and killed in their millions and made into candles and lamp oil. Lighting your house at the expense of all those magnificent creatures seems so wrong. It can’t have been a clean light can it?