I saw a man peacefully take his life

What I witnessed happened over two years ago. I have, to a certain extent, come to terms with the experience. One thing I can say is this: the man left this world peacefully.

It was a cold Sunday afternoon in December. My nephew Daniel and I went for a walk to a place I call La Catedral. It is on the shore of the river Rhone, a natural sanctuary with no stonewalls. There is something both eerie and beautiful about La Catedral. Trees stand as islands surrounded by water, some have fallen, brought down by the steady erosion from the river’s current. It had been a spectacular evening walk, the blue-pink sky, the freezing temperature, the fog rising over the water, the silence, the sense of an ending.

And then we spotted him. Something about him felt immediately wrong. He was a man in his late 60’s. He appeared withdrawn, out of touch, lost in some reverie. He was not wearing a coat, only a shirt, and what seemed to be slippers. It was freezing. He stood by the water, staring at a swan. It was almost beautiful. Almost, because something wasn’t right. Was he mentally ill? Had he walked away from a hospital? My body sensed danger. My mind thought differently, it said meditation, contemplation; it instructed me to respect his space. Part of me wanted to run and protect, another to let be; strange, to be pulled in separate directions.