Tens of thousands are feared dead in the aftermath of this horrifying seismic event. Still further thousands remain buried under the rubble of buildings. Reports state that where moans and groans were once heard, silence now reigns. The New York Times website includes a feature that allows you to slide a rule across an aerial view of Port-au-Prince, watching a view of the city before the earthquake hit become grey, flattened and peopled by many ant-like bodies as the destruction of Tuesday's terrible events are revealed. It is a scene from the worst war zone.
The images that I found to be the most emotionally devastating are those of the car park outside the central morgue where bodies lie tangled, limb over and under limb, heads rolled into necks, bodies heavy and still.
Reports of the all-pervading stench of death are ubiquitous.
There is too much death to identify any single tragedy until one is presented with the images of the traumatised survivors. Again in The New York Times, I found an image by Damian Winter, of Lionel Michaud after having discovered his ten-month old daughter among the bodies. His wife was also killed.
On Guardian.co.uk today stories about the following subjects all rank higher in terms of reader numbers than do reports from or about Haiti: the South Africa V England cricket game; the death of Zimbabwean tourist, Lloyd Skinner who was attacked by a 'dinosaur huge' shark just 100m off a beach in Cape Town, South Africa; the 20 best moments in 20 years of the Simpsons; Rafael Benitez's prospects at Liverpool football club.
It is a sad fact that we quickly forget, sad but also a matter of psychological survival. It is a pity that in a few weeks we may not have cause to remember that Lionel Michaud is grieving the loss of his child and his wife and spurred on by this memory, either give something of ourselves to help another person, or simply feel more thankful than we normally might for any health or happiness that we enjoy.
There is a reason that we are made this way and that is that if we did not have the power to push to the back of our minds the suffering of others, we would not continue. If we did not have this power to forget we would be overcome by everyday tragedy and it is not our business to let life's most horrendous incidents bring us to our knees, one weight around our necks, by one weight of tragedy around our necks.
Devastation hits without rhyme, reason and often without warning. To accept that, to prepare for it, or to do something to prevent it all seem sensible, but to try to understand it is impossible.
Why me? and, Why not me? are as difficult questions as is Why are we here? Thank God and all the lucky stars for the people who find meaning in saying: I'll help, this is what I'm here for. I admire their dedication and the spirit of selflessness that keeps them going when their job involves experiencing the devastation first hand and living through its aftermath day after day. To all those suffering in Haiti, and elsewhere, my heart goes out.
While life goes on, on it goes and if it is good all we can do is be grateful and enjoy it. Yesterday's post about shopping seems frivolous in comparison with the subject of today's posting, but I think that, essentially, that is what life is made of - patchwork pieces of fluff and frivolity and laughter, plus shards of moments so awful that they take the breath from your body.
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