acacia blossoms

acacia blossoms

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

moon dreams and mr p

Last night the sky was dark and clear. The milky way stretching over our heads like a handful of magic dust flung from a celestial hand. Jupiter shining bright in the west and the moon sleeping off its day job was nowhere to be seen.  We sat around the fire. The wind had dropped but a winter chill still hung in the air held back by the glowing embers of our hard wood fire.


We started talking about the moon. Telling moon stories. Not talking behind its back you understand – nothing we wouldn't have said if it was shining down on us in all its silver glory.


We spoke about the first man ON the moon and how there is a school of thought that doubts this ever happened. They claim it was all staged somewhere in the Nevada desert. How would we know?  Back in 1969 it was just as hard for some rural folk here to believe a man walked on the moon.  It made them cross thinking the news bearer was making fun of them. How could it be possible? Which moon? That one! Nope – impossible.


I think the moon should be sacrosanct. It belongs to all the worlds people. Its pull on the tides, on the rhythms of our lives; on when to plant crops and when it will rain continues to underpin life on earth despite our techno immuno cyber developed systems (I was going to say civilizations but changed my mind).  When all else gets crazy the moon stays constant, gazing down benign – watching over us. We can send messages to far flung friends via the full moon. "I am looking up and I know you are too" kind of messages.


Can't we ban people from leaving flags, trash, footprints on our moon? Cant we stop them for prospecting for water and minerals? Do they plan to start mining? Will we look up there one day and see smoke and lights and a pall of manmade pollution ringing our moon? Shudder…


With all the money that is spent on space exploration, we could build school roofs for all the schools in the whole wide world – whether they need them or not. We could save topsoil, save forests, clean up our oceans – our drinking water. The possibilities are endless. 


Then if we took all the money that is spent on the arms trade; and stolen by corrupt politicians and leaders; and chucked that into the pot we could all holiday forever!

Oh is that my alarm clock – I must have been dreaming.


No wait – someone is rattling the security gate in the passage way. Its 5am but still dark .  We have guests and I think they are trying to open the gate so I turn on the lights and peep around the corner (in case it is masked gunmen instead). 


HA! It's the porcupine. Somehow we shut him inside the house last night. He is pushing the gate frantically. I move towards him and he starts rattling his quills – a sound like one of those Australian aboriginal rain making things (a hollow pole filled with seeds that you upturn and sounds just like rain); OK he rattles his quills making a sound like rain. He stamps his foot now and again too. Its quite musical. But I still don't want him to back into me with his quills, and he is obviously quite flustered.


We sneak past and open the front doors and stoep doors. He scurries off into the darkened kitchen.  We leave him to find his own way out. Daylight creeps softly in wearing a rose coloured scarf draped across the sky.



Sunday, June 21, 2009

sunny sunday afternoon and awards time

Yesterday was the shortest day. From today summer starts heading back – although it has a way to travel yet. Today is sunny dry and bright. The grass is blonde yellow and the monkeys are hungry already and spending more time at our windows again. Sunny Sunday afternoon – soft desert quiet in the winter sun; playing the new Yusuf (Cat Stevens) on the CD.


I am looking particularly fashionable today in my cozy 'ug' type boots, exercise pants and oversize painting tee shirt; hair unbrushed, pulled back in a band. Not expecting any visitors – although the anti poaching patrol guys, are lounging at the pool while we recharge their cell phone.  Their job is to walk around the reserve, without leaving tracks, and try to help protect this little island of biodiversity against the human tide of want and greed.


Here is a strange quote I found while looking for something else;


"the common cormorant or shag, lays eggs inside a paper bag. The reason you will see no doubt. It is to keep the lightening out. But what these unobservant birds have never noticed is that herds of wandering bears may come with guns, and steal the bags to hold the crumbs".  Christopher Isherwood


Now I am thinking there was a very good reason I kept that quote….


I think these blogosphere awards are a wonderful to share blogs we enjoy and broaden the network. The lovely Karen of Border Town Notes recently splashed me with this gorgeous mermaid award. Thank you Karen! I am to nominate 9 blogs that I find alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive and inspiring. Now I know not everyone is into this, and some of you have been Splashed already so I shall just persevere


Fleeing Muses

Times of Miranda

The Gold Puppy

Verily I go

The Middenshire Chronicles

Life In Matthews

Aerial Armadillo

Absolute Vanilla

Last Visible Dog

Ahhh The Cottage Life

Inukshuk Adventure


Pete from Verily I Go blog  who lives somewhere gorgeous in Southern California and can make you hold your breath with her scuba dive tales – gave me two beautiful awards!! Thank you Petie!


For the Lemonade Award – I must nominate ten blogs with attitude and gratitude.

So here goes


Letters From Usedom

Holey Vision

Border Town Notes

Under a Blood Red Sky

Candy Sandwich

True Blue Texan

Lizzy Frizzfrock

Fire Byrd

Ngorobob Hill House

Pink Dogwood


AND for the Golden Heart Award – I can pass this on to anyone I feel has a golden heart!  So please please all you dear friends in blogoland, consider yourselves nominated, paste the image in your sidebars and pass it on to ten. You all have golden hearts as far as I can see.


By the way does anyone know what happened to Mango Madness. She hasn't blogged for two months but her last posting was so poignant about packing up her family home. Where did she go to? If you haven't read it please visit her last post.


So that's it for today .. I hope you are all having happy Sundays wherever you are!
oh and by the way, incase none of my links work, please check my blogroll for links ...

Monday, June 15, 2009

memory lane

I went on a stroll down memory lane the other day. It is a place I spent most of my childhood free time from the beginning all the way through.  It was family time – free time – exploring rocks and caves and craggy cliffs; soaking up sunshine on springy coastal grasslands watching skylarks overhead and  azure waves crashing below; running on endless beaches, scrambling down cliff paths – and even if the sun didn't always shine it never stopped us. I can walk this place in my sleep and often do. Lately it had been calling me.


My father is buried in a churchyard high on the cliffs overlooking the bay. Sometimes the setting sun shines through the historic Norman chapel so that walking on the shiny beach is lit with more soul food.  Was it him calling me there; was it me calling me there? Was it just a whim?


As luck would have it, a window opened, and after a long flight, and five hour drive, suddenly there I was again. Nothing had changed really. Ghosts flitted about me, in a light storm of triggered memories. I watched the new families doing beach time and felt like a ghost myself. Watching, floating, breathing it all in.


None of the old people I remember are still there in the tiny fishing village. The pubs had been modernised and one had turned Australian. It was strange but vaguely cleansing.


Hedgerows higher than elephants, bedecked in wild flowers line the narrow roads – and local drivers have right of way – which makes driving a fun and exciting experience.


At low tide I walked the beach. The wind was a 'whetted knife'. The beach wet with streams, reflecting watercolours of people, buildings and jagged cliffs. Seismic rock patterns tower and tumble, beneath their ragged green fringes spotted with flowers.My feet were freezing in the icy pools and waves but it had to be done.



As we left to drive back to London, I stopped to buy potatoes at a farm stall. Apparently Pembrokeshire potatoes are special – something to do with the soil. There was no- one in sight, just a small wooden stall with a few bags of potatoes and a jam jar in which to deposit the money.  It was enormously good to know there is still one place in the world where old systems of trust prevail.



Monday, June 1, 2009

Bridges Award

The lovely award image to go with the previous post
blog on everyone x

best laid plans and lovely award

After all the packing, list checking and tying of loose ends. We set off for Botswana on friday stopping in Tzaneen for a breakfast meet with some friends. Whilst there a phone call came in and we decided to turn back for a meeting with our partners about mozambique. It was a good thing to do as we had been missing each other for a while, and as we were only an hour down the road it seemed a good idea.
Rayson was delighted to see us come back as he could then go home for the weekend. He just shook his head as he helped me unpack the vehicle we only packed up the day before.
We had a good meeting, and then went to the airstrip to see our friends fly off. As the plane was taxiing down the strip, we noticed that the baggage door was standing open. We shouted and waved but they couldnt hear us so K has to go racing after them down the strip in his Cruiser. Luckily he managed to catch them before take off and we drove on home through the back country happy to be on the ground.
I have recieved the most beautiful award from Tessa of Aerial Armadillo which is self styled to celebrate bloggers building bridges - which is one of the loveliest parts of blogging as it transpires.  Tessas artworks are so vibrant and joyful  - please do go to her blogsite and have a look. She also writes beautifully, and posts recipes that have me drooling. Fortunately no-one can see.  Thank you Tessa - it is a joy to 'know' you.