Years ago I used to do a lot of skydiving. When you jump as a student, you wear an Automatic Activation Device - an AAD. It pulls the chute if you don't. I remember clearly the first time I jumped without one - doing something that was frivolously dangerous, pointing myself at the earth, concentrating on other things for a while, whilst always being responsible for my own life; knowing I would die unless I took simple and straightforward steps, did things I had been trained to do and practiced repeatedly. The experience was heightened, at the time, and for long afterwards. I knew I had stepped out of a plane with only myself to save me. I did so, and I felt more alive for it, for hours and days afterwards.

This feeling is always part of skydiving, sometimes small, sometimes large. Some days I would disagree with what I write now, but most days I wouldn't. The essence of the feeling though, is that the colors of life are brighter when contrasted to the dull grey of death. The moments are more intense and the time afterwards is sweeter and more savored. The drop zone is a wonderful place after a big jumping day, with so many people feeling life. The addiction of skydiving is as much the camaraderie in the afterglow as the freefall and the swoop. Many non-jumpers on the drop zone would agree.

There are many parallels - skydiving is by choice, but many or most of us have been in incidents when danger was there and death was close, and the stark relief of life is intense. Viivu's cancer and its remission solved many small problems for me, simply by casting them into shadow. Sometimes in skydiving death would come and the grey would be black, and the colors would dim, but the contrast would win. Life is better, and death tells us that.

To save your own life, that you placed in danger, is one thing. Shane and Bron faced the fire, and it came. They saved not only themselves, but their young children. Not with a chute that was built for them, but with their own system and equipment and plan, not against gravity but against a force of nature more unpredictable but just as uncompromising. I don't know how that feels but I am intensely proud of them, and incredibly thankful that they are alive.

Their life is a bright spot against the darkness, the loss of life and property. I'm a long way away and it's icy here. I wish we could see them. Once more, thank goodness they are alive. Thank goodness we are, thank goodness you are. Sorry for those that aren't.