In its immediacy, the 30-second clip of Angel Martin Arjona running, stumbling and then running again captures one man’s desperate attempt to cling to life.
In a wider sense, the film summarises the scorching heatwaves that have engulfed Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, parts of Asia and the United States since June.
These temperatures may be familiar in Australia, but in other parts of the world, where the great bulk of humanity lives, they are shocking.
To those who still believe climate change is not important, or who say it’s happened before or it’s all a Green left-wing conspiracy — Angel’s plight shows that you can, and probably will, burn in hell if nothing is done.
In Australia, images of burning forests and paddocks become familiar every year. They inevitably lead to finger pointing and tired arguments about forest floor management. The images also lead to complacency — it’s always been that way and nothing we do will make any difference.
However, coupled with the release this week of Australia’s State of the Environment report — the burning man image is even more shocking.
The report, authored by three leading Australian scientists, makes grim reading.
At least 19 Australian ecosystems are showing signs of collapse or near collapse. We have lost more mammal species than any other continent, we have more foreign plant species than natives, and the condition of our rivers and catchments is in severe decline.
Shamefully, the previous Federal Government did not release the report until after the election.
All this big picture stuff can leave little people from lawn mower land feeling stupefied and powerless.
But even in my corner I have noticed changes.
Twenty seven years ago we woke to a giant goanna climbing the wall of our garden shed. I’ve never seen another since then. As the kids grew we would sit on the banks of what we called turtle pond out the back of our place to count the long-necks coming up for sun and air. On a good day we could spot 20 or 30 of them floating around like green dinner plates. When the bush billabong behind our house dried out during the 2000 drought, it never refilled and the turtles disappeared. After rain, froglets would climb our kitchen windows. They don’t any more. After a summer evening drive, the car bonnet and windscreen would be a graveyard of bugs. Now, it’s as clean as when we left. At he News office, the back door and the floor under my desk would be alive with crickets and cicadas. Not any more.
But what can I do about it? Well, I don’t eat meat; I try not to buy plastic; we have reduced our red-bin waste to nearly zero; we recycle our clothes, our kitchen scraps and our electronic goods; we drive a petrol car, but we plan to buy an electric one when the price comes down; we’ve installed solar panels thanks to the Victorian Government’s sensible and generous loan scheme; we’ve installed a water tank. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, these changes are just tokens from an entitled, first-world lifestyle.
But they show ordinary people are aware of what needs to be done and are ready to embrace change — with a little guidance and help.
But we need to do more.
Angel’s desperate dash for life shows we need to make deep changes to the way we live.
Stop using petrol and gas, stop clearing land, stop burning coal, stop eating so much meat, and stop using so much water and plastic. Even more than this — stop voting for people and policies that do nothing for the future of our world.
If we don’t start running towards the net-zero emissions finish line then our children and grandchildren will have to sprint, and not all of them will make it.
Widen the camera lens and deepen the focus on Spain’s burning man — then you will see we are all Angel.
We have been strolling towards climate change solutions, tinkering and bickering as we go. Now it is time to start running.
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