Flags at half mast.

Yesterday, on my return to the office, I missed the bus. This meant I had to walk into work, which was difficult having played extended five a sides on Wednesday and having walked across the town to get to my first aid training course each day this week, and especially on Thursday when I went and done a full shop in the glorious sunshine and carried the bags about a mile back to my flat. So I was a little annoyed as I watched it pull away.

As I wandered back into the car park I noticed in the dense fog the Wood Group, Scotland, Canada and Nexen flags were all at half mast because of the helicopter ditching into the sea on Wednesday. The impact this had on the office was quite telling - hushed tones, less jovial banter, and when the email went round explaining the Wood Group had sent a wreath to the Oil Chaplaincy in the city a few recoiled. It is a strange feeling.

Now I don't know anyone who was on board but that is not what I am thinking. I am thinking that one of the people on board was 24 and worked for a contracting firm. Like I do. And when I saw the RAF helicopter flying back across the city to ARI I realised what it was flying back from. When I saw the Private Ambulance driving along Market Street on Thursday morning, I know what was inside, or what they were waiting for, and when I saw the photographers in the Harbour Cafe on Market Street at lunchtime on Thursday I know what they were there to take photos of, and it made it all the more real.

So let's say that this blog is a half mast.