Strangely enough, the coming of Spring is a sudden thing. Almost an overnight thing. For weeks we would be watching little brown knobs on branches and wonder if our fruit trees are going to make it through the winter and especially the freezing August winds this year. Then one morning we would wake up and the plaas would be clothed in the most frivolous pink and white blossoms. When you walk amongst the orange trees, you can imagine yourself wading through a pool of perfume. This is the time when we have to rent a few hives of bees to come and buzz about and make sure our almond trees and all the others will be sorted fruitwise come season. And talk about speed! I now understand ‘a hive of activety’. From dawn to dusk, these little creatures are working non-stop. And beware the one walking through the flight route! I still have a bump on my leg from last year….
Then, the sky. How can I describe to you how my hart jumps in the dark hours of a Saturday morning, making my way to the big kitchen to bake for the Markie? By then all the solar lights have died and the morning is black, quiet and crisp. But the stars. But the stars. I can’t help it. I just have to stand and stare, even though I know there is a tub big as a bath of bulgeing dough waiting to be turned into loaves….. I literally get arrested for a few moments by the majesty above me. And once the loaves are in the oven and the quiches have been made the way Elin taught me, I go to the cottage for my second cup of coffee. By then the East is aflame and the mountains etched into the red background. Boet! I will never get used to it. New mercies every day.
To me the men look like ancient warriors, muffled up, even in summer, against the elements. And beneath them, a sea of bobbing little hairy, beaked heads. The trucks rattle and roar, they sound and look eery and disconcerting and aggressive, reminding me of a Trojan Horse or a speeding wagon that may never be allowed to stop, moving and roaming forever and ever. Almost a symbol of the perpetual motion in the world outside our little town.
I turn away from the road towards the mountains. The trees. The eternally blue sky. Constantly changing, in season, each to its own rhythm. It stills one’s heart and mind.
Lots of love from all of us, dogs, cats and chickens too!