It was 8:15 in the morning. The smart station placed under the porch at the entrance of the chalet was already showing 29 degrees. Inside, luckily, it felt a bit better. The idea of going out for a shoot wasn’t attractive at all.
What I never got tired of, though, was the wonderful view over the valley.
Hundreds of years had passed since the last glacier had completely melted. The ice left behind nothing but stretches of rock and gravel. Even here, about 5000 meters above sea level, temperatures had risen to the point of burning and desertifying the slopes of the highest and once lush mountains.
The chalet I lived in was partly a cave carved inside the rock. This kept the temperature at acceptable levels. The outer part, the chalet itself, was just the entrance. Centuries ago wood was used to build such houses. Now it was necessary to use materials that wouldn’t catch fire under the violent rays of the Sun.
Governments around the world had been fooling people for centuries. They told stories about rules and interventions supposedly made to stop climate change. Reality, however, was very different. To actually do what was needed would have required trillions of dollars of investments. Above all, it would have required the super rich to slow down (mind you, slow down, not stop) their economic growth.
And so, it had always been easier to postpone the problem. Every generation of leaders believed it wouldn’t live long enough to pay the price anyway.
Today, while medicine had jumped forward at monstrous speed in certain fields, we were reduced to hiding for most of the day. Going out required special anti-radiation suits to avoid our skin being literally cooked by the power of the Sun.
That’s why, as much as I love photography, I’m always a bit reluctant when people ask me for outdoor sessions.
This time, though, was different. It was a job I couldn’t refuse. Not for money — luckily, that wasn’t a problem. It was an ethical matter, a call I just couldn’t ignore.
Some years earlier, I had found an appointment set on my calendar for a shoot with Naima. There weren’t many details, just that she wanted a 30-minute outdoor set, without any kind of protection. At first, I thought she was completely crazy. Anyway, I would wear my suit and stay safe.
The request was for around fifteen pictures of her. In nature — or at least what was left of it — and in the beauty of the mountains where I lived.
At the chalet door showed up a girl with long plum-colored hair. She was tall, with a body shaped by sports. Her features were kind and graceful. Two topaz-colored eyes smiled in a sunny face full of joy and enthusiasm.
I wondered why on earth she would want to burn her milk-white skin for just a handful of photos. Especially now that she could easily make them with artificial intelligence.
As always, before starting to create together, I invited her inside to talk a bit and find the right feeling.
“Nice to meet you, Naima,” I said, inviting her to sit.
“Nice to meet you too. I’m really excited to make these photos with you,” she replied, beaming.
“Thank you, that’s really kind. Would you like to tell me a bit about yourself, so we can break the ice – I wondered where this expression even came from – and relax before the set?”
“Sure. As you already know, my name is Naima, I’m 25 and I’m dying,” she said, still with that disarming smile fixed on her face.
I froze. Not so much for the news itself, but for the simplicity and naturalness with which she said it. I suspect she noticed my puzzled expression right away. She widened her lips even more in a wonderful laugh and went on:
“You’re funny. Actually, you all look pretty funny when I introduce myself this way,” she said.
“Well, let’s say that’s not exactly what I expected when I said we should find some feeling before the set,” I replied, smiling back.
“Hahaha, you’re right. But there’s no point in hiding it. That’s exactly the reason why I asked for these photos and why I specified I would do them without protection.
The point, to make it short, is that I was born with a very serious heart problem. Mostly because of the strain my mother went through during pregnancy and delivery. We lived in a very simple house where it wasn’t possible to protect yourself from the extreme heat like you can here inside. Those conditions made everything worse. She died shortly after giving birth.
Now doctors told me that, even if I kept myself in shape all these years, without exaggerating of course, the disease and the rising temperatures are accelerating my conditions. So I made a decision.
My body will be the manifesto of what climate change has caused. From now on I won’t wear any suit anymore. I’ll live what remains just like they used to do hundreds of years ago. And before my time will come, we’ll do this set again to show what was NOT done to preserve the planet.”
I must admit I felt both shaken and deeply admiring. The courage, the strength and the enthusiasm she showed, even while knowing the end was close, were a powerful message for everyone.
“You’re brave. Much more than most of the people I know. Actually, more than all of them,” I told her.
She smiled again. “So, shall we start?” she asked.
I nodded, went to put on my suit and grab the gear, then guided her outside.
When we were on the threshold, I was about to set the 30-minute timer, as Naima had asked when she booked the appointment. But then I stopped and looked at her:
“Sorry, but why did you specify the set should only last 30 minutes, if you had already decided not to wear a suit or any protection?”
She answered candidly: “Because after that I have to go training. But I didn’t want to postpone this any longer.” Then she burst into loud laughter.
So I set the timer and we started the shoot. She moved with such confidence and ease that, after talking with her for a while, it didn’t surprise me anymore. She was completely at ease, fully aware of herself and of what was happening to her.
It was the most intense half hour I ever experienced.
A few weeks later I sent her the pictures we had created, chosen and perfected together. She was satisfied, cheerful as always.
I didn’t hear from her again until a few weeks ago, when she called me saying it was time.
That morning Naima came to my door for the final part of the job she had asked me years before. When I opened the door, I was overwhelmed by a deep sadness, a sharp pain right in my chest.
The pale skin of her face was covered with sores and burns. Her once bright blue eyes were now swollen and dull. Her long silky hair had turned into a rough and tangled knot.
Only one thing hadn’t changed: her bright, radiant smile. That was still there.
We finished the work in less than half an hour. She was much more exhausted than the first time. But she didn’t want to leave the message unfinished.
What she couldn’t know was that there was nothing left to do. Neither for her, nor for humanity.
She died a few days later, ironically on the same day when the “great leaders” of Earth gathered to announce to the world that the planet had reached a point of no return.
Mankind, because of its own fault, was destined to extinction.
Take care and talk soon!