Tonight we have the most beautiful golden full moon rising steadily through the leafless trees; a male nyalla antelope is breathing his last breath. With leaves so sparse on the trees he has eaten of a poisonous vine – the last green leaf he could reach. His body, already thin, is barely visible above the ground; his massive horns appear unwieldy and only a hindrance now. Last week he was in love with a beautiful female. While the others were feasting on the Lucerne (alfalfa) bales, he only had eyes for her. His tracks from this morning are by our step.
The moon climbs higher preaching continuity – life goes on; wars happen, banks close, recession, succession, ; the baboons watch well into darkness. Moving like shadows away from our view but staying in range of the nyalla. They shy away from eye contact with us, even though we are watching from behind the glass window. They too are hungry, desperate.
Two giraffe stroll in to the waterhole, stretching to reach new leaves on the taller trees. They look like giants, white and shapely in the low light. All the animals seem restless, for ever walking back and forth – waiting for that first green flush of summer.
Do animals have souls? Is his emerging from his exhausted body like a magnificent butterfly from a chrysalis – soaring away from the pain of transition? or not...
acacia blossoms
Monday, September 15, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Teas Made
My mother had a teasmaid – am I showing my age here? And no its not something that will be banned by the censor board!!! It was an amazing heath robinson type of contraption that pushed the limits of what can be combined with an alarm clock. We have radio alarms; mobile phone alarms; mickey mouse alarms….. what else? alarm clocks that is. Of course the security business here is BIG but that’s another story.
Anyhow, I remember dark winter mornings with school days on the horizon and unfinished homework to explain; mornings when staying in bed was a better option. Long before the last-minute-jump-out-of-bed-and-into-clothes moment had arrived it would start. The first blup… then another. Breaking the cosy caccoon of the night – no going back now. Blip blip…..increasing in volume and frequency with an awful sense of inevitability that only my mother could enjoy because for her it heralded a steaming cup of tea. The blips would become a torrent and then a fog horn would reverberate around the house with a big light that shone even under the closed door flooding into the landing. It shook and belched steam…. It was a veritable time machine!!! What happened to them?
Now I have monkeys….
Anyhow, I remember dark winter mornings with school days on the horizon and unfinished homework to explain; mornings when staying in bed was a better option. Long before the last-minute-jump-out-of-bed-and-into-clothes moment had arrived it would start. The first blup… then another. Breaking the cosy caccoon of the night – no going back now. Blip blip…..increasing in volume and frequency with an awful sense of inevitability that only my mother could enjoy because for her it heralded a steaming cup of tea. The blips would become a torrent and then a fog horn would reverberate around the house with a big light that shone even under the closed door flooding into the landing. It shook and belched steam…. It was a veritable time machine!!! What happened to them?
Now I have monkeys….
Friday, September 12, 2008
helter skelter
After all the heat and summer swelter, yesterday a night wind blew in cloud cover and the temperature has dropped more than ten degrees – it is now 21C in the kitchen. Strangely all the monkeys have gone. No more little faces at every window hungrily watching every move and waiting for a door or window to be left off the latch.
Well there was one that slipped in this morning. He left a turd artfully poised on the corner of the dining room table like a small brown place setting . Once spotted he started to panic and couldn’t find the tiny gap in the door by which he had come in. I stepped back as, once before, a monkey had panicked and jumped straight through one of the big panes of glass. He was fine – not a drop of spilled blood – but may have had a small headache for a while – we will never know about that. So we waited for this one to find the gap of his own accord – which thank goodness did not take too long once there was no pressure.
Had to clear the decks a bit this morning. Felt I was drowning in piles of papers. Maybe the ghosts of all those trees wagging their phantom twig fingers at me in disapproval.
So September 11 again hey. Where were you when the twin towers went down? Certainly something no-one can ever forget. Thanks to live broadcasting anxious faces all over the world looked on in total horror.
I remember the day here. Something wonderous was happening in our back yard. Six bull elephants had wandered in from the bush and were browsing the trees up against the house. We were watching in wondrous amazement. Seen against the familiar constructs of our simple dwelling, the elephants suddenly looked really huge – or the house looked small. Then the phone rang…….. turn on CNN right now – a familiar voice instructed in a tone that left no room for discussions. We did so, and while the elephants moved slowley past the window we gaped in stunned silence at the awful spectacle of New York on fire.
Then the second plane came in. It felt like the end of the world, and it was in a way, certainly as we all knew it. And who in the world has not been affected in some way to greater or lesser extent? The madness of human beings at play in the game of life.
Well there was one that slipped in this morning. He left a turd artfully poised on the corner of the dining room table like a small brown place setting . Once spotted he started to panic and couldn’t find the tiny gap in the door by which he had come in. I stepped back as, once before, a monkey had panicked and jumped straight through one of the big panes of glass. He was fine – not a drop of spilled blood – but may have had a small headache for a while – we will never know about that. So we waited for this one to find the gap of his own accord – which thank goodness did not take too long once there was no pressure.
Had to clear the decks a bit this morning. Felt I was drowning in piles of papers. Maybe the ghosts of all those trees wagging their phantom twig fingers at me in disapproval.
So September 11 again hey. Where were you when the twin towers went down? Certainly something no-one can ever forget. Thanks to live broadcasting anxious faces all over the world looked on in total horror.
I remember the day here. Something wonderous was happening in our back yard. Six bull elephants had wandered in from the bush and were browsing the trees up against the house. We were watching in wondrous amazement. Seen against the familiar constructs of our simple dwelling, the elephants suddenly looked really huge – or the house looked small. Then the phone rang…….. turn on CNN right now – a familiar voice instructed in a tone that left no room for discussions. We did so, and while the elephants moved slowley past the window we gaped in stunned silence at the awful spectacle of New York on fire.
Then the second plane came in. It felt like the end of the world, and it was in a way, certainly as we all knew it. And who in the world has not been affected in some way to greater or lesser extent? The madness of human beings at play in the game of life.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
missing moon
hi there if you were expecting to see a new marvellous posting of the moon phases - umm well i had to take it off because it made everything else disappear - which is not necessarily a bad thing but i had to see if it was reversible...... big learning curve going on here!!
still... havent.... got the photo up load thing sorted. i just dont seem to have the same tab options on the edit page as i should. maybe its destiny...
anyway that moon thing was really cool - its a widget thingy... i may try to get it back again... sigh
oh well
still... havent.... got the photo up load thing sorted. i just dont seem to have the same tab options on the edit page as i should. maybe its destiny...
anyway that moon thing was really cool - its a widget thingy... i may try to get it back again... sigh
oh well
Friday, September 5, 2008
Elephant games
Decided to dip into Kruger National park for lunch yesterday. The entrance gate is just 20 minutes from our gate so it’s an easy dip. We thought we might find fires raging, or at least the source of some of this smoke haze. Found instead a desolate landscape of brown dust and sticks coming out of the ground that are leafless trees. Nothing to burn here. In the wide landscape, elephants were floating along well worn paths like sailing ships – their ears unfurling sails. Dust baths have blended them with the landscape as they carry the red earth on the curve of their backs.
It was all so incredibly calming. Kruger has good roads and speed limits. The steady pace of the road rolling out before us; animals sleeping under trees; the sun on our faces and arms. Bright white-blue heavens spreading wall to wall force a slight screwing up of eye lids; soon the mesmerising effect of the passing landscape did the rest.
So often we pass cars in Kruger where the driver is all agog, and the passengers have slumped up against the windows; chubby cheeks sliding down the glass, forcing the sleeper to pull amazing faces at the passing traffic.
My favourite is when a big old bull elephant wants to walk down the road this way. The tourist and park vehicles line up but keep their motors running. These elephants have a sense of humour. The elephant towers over the saloon vehicles – they are looking at his knees. He swings his trunk idly, looping it over one tusk as if it is too heavy to carry today. His head swings with each step too, and ears fan back and forth gently cooling. He shows no sign of stepping off the road. Reverse lights come on like street lights at dusk. The guy in front is rubber necking, feeling trapped. The elephant has his number and gives him a ‘look’. Drivers start to exercise their synchronised reversing skills and the passengers are now wide awake.
The elephant keeps up a steady pace, body moving to the rhythm of the beat. He acknowledges that the cars have moved but never wavers, pressing onwards ever on. Some vehicles decide to turn and take another route. Some hold their ground; others get great photos without a zoom lens.
Finally, boredom arrives at the same time as a well worn path to a waterhole. Some pushing and shoving with the other bulls seems more appealing than herding cars. The giant animal eases off the tar and onto the path. He walks on, never faltering and never looking back.
It was all so incredibly calming. Kruger has good roads and speed limits. The steady pace of the road rolling out before us; animals sleeping under trees; the sun on our faces and arms. Bright white-blue heavens spreading wall to wall force a slight screwing up of eye lids; soon the mesmerising effect of the passing landscape did the rest.
So often we pass cars in Kruger where the driver is all agog, and the passengers have slumped up against the windows; chubby cheeks sliding down the glass, forcing the sleeper to pull amazing faces at the passing traffic.
My favourite is when a big old bull elephant wants to walk down the road this way. The tourist and park vehicles line up but keep their motors running. These elephants have a sense of humour. The elephant towers over the saloon vehicles – they are looking at his knees. He swings his trunk idly, looping it over one tusk as if it is too heavy to carry today. His head swings with each step too, and ears fan back and forth gently cooling. He shows no sign of stepping off the road. Reverse lights come on like street lights at dusk. The guy in front is rubber necking, feeling trapped. The elephant has his number and gives him a ‘look’. Drivers start to exercise their synchronised reversing skills and the passengers are now wide awake.
The elephant keeps up a steady pace, body moving to the rhythm of the beat. He acknowledges that the cars have moved but never wavers, pressing onwards ever on. Some vehicles decide to turn and take another route. Some hold their ground; others get great photos without a zoom lens.
Finally, boredom arrives at the same time as a well worn path to a waterhole. Some pushing and shoving with the other bulls seems more appealing than herding cars. The giant animal eases off the tar and onto the path. He walks on, never faltering and never looking back.
Monday, September 1, 2008
smoke in the air
Today there is smoke in the air. Heat has been building for the past few days. We hope it will lead to rain. The air is thick with dust and smoke. Mountains have retreated behind the blue haze. The rolling tree canopy of our view to the south is defined in coloured layers like two-dimensional theatre props fading into blue.
A gusty wind has been fanning the heavy air. Grass is tinder dry and somewhere a fire is raging- hanging smoke over a wide range. Today we can smell it; yesterday it was just haze.
We are in the north eastern ‘lowveld’ of South Africa. This ‘lowveld’ stretches out beneath the benign gaze of the Drakensberg Mountains. It is a gently undulating heartland of ancient creatures. Harsh and unforgiving in the late dry season when the bones of the earth are laid bare by drought, and the bones of the animals protrude hungrily through dusty hides. It bursts into exuberant growth with the first rains – sticks and stones are cloaked in a soft canopy of verdant green. The air becomes torpid with heat that shimmers off granite boulders and koppies, and there is movement of a myriad life forms everywhere.
It is impossible not to be affected by the seasonal changes here. Tension mounts in people and animals, as all gaze skywards waiting for that build up of clouds that heralds the first rains. People are edgy, fights start easily, neighbours and friends find cause to argue. The temperature climbs, squashing us flat with its fierceness and burning our bare feet when we move on pathways of mirages.
Then the rains come, drenching the hard earth, and pouring off the surface – racing in rivers along roads, filling the dams once more. The smell of first rain should be bottled and sold. It is sweet, and heady – the very breath of life. Our primate souls rejoice in the presence of water once more and the world around us feels invigorated by the gift of water from the sky.
But for now we wait.
A gusty wind has been fanning the heavy air. Grass is tinder dry and somewhere a fire is raging- hanging smoke over a wide range. Today we can smell it; yesterday it was just haze.
We are in the north eastern ‘lowveld’ of South Africa. This ‘lowveld’ stretches out beneath the benign gaze of the Drakensberg Mountains. It is a gently undulating heartland of ancient creatures. Harsh and unforgiving in the late dry season when the bones of the earth are laid bare by drought, and the bones of the animals protrude hungrily through dusty hides. It bursts into exuberant growth with the first rains – sticks and stones are cloaked in a soft canopy of verdant green. The air becomes torpid with heat that shimmers off granite boulders and koppies, and there is movement of a myriad life forms everywhere.
It is impossible not to be affected by the seasonal changes here. Tension mounts in people and animals, as all gaze skywards waiting for that build up of clouds that heralds the first rains. People are edgy, fights start easily, neighbours and friends find cause to argue. The temperature climbs, squashing us flat with its fierceness and burning our bare feet when we move on pathways of mirages.
Then the rains come, drenching the hard earth, and pouring off the surface – racing in rivers along roads, filling the dams once more. The smell of first rain should be bottled and sold. It is sweet, and heady – the very breath of life. Our primate souls rejoice in the presence of water once more and the world around us feels invigorated by the gift of water from the sky.
But for now we wait.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Summers coming
Another monkey tale
Scene at old Chobe Safari Lodge, in Botswana:
There is always a chaotic scene when tourii are scrambling to climb onto game viewing vehicles in the after lunch haze. Somewhere in the jumble of camera bags and seat saving a monkey managed to grab hold of a pair of binoculars and took them high up into one of those giant trees.
Other tourists raced forward with cameras to record the scene. One frantic visitor was pointing furiously – completely unable to rectify the event. The monkey looked down with mild interest having discovered that the binoculars were not edible or really fun to play with – he started losing interest. However, the strap had somehow become hooked around his neck. He wanted to drop the wretched things that were now drawing far too much attention his way. He pulled on them this way – that way – but they wouldn’t leave him alone. To the anthropomorphic amongst us it appeared that he was looking through the binoculars – this caused much hilarity amongst the greater group, and a barrage of camera shutter noises.
Finally they came free. He dropped them and we saw them tumble in slo mo to the soft grassy lawn below. Luckily no damage.
Unlike the baboon who stole a camera from the camp site, and took it up into a tree leaning over the river. When he finally dropped the non food item, there was a loud sploshing noise and it descended into crocodile country. Irretrievable. No ‘sorry’ either.
But enough about our primate pals…for now
The last few days are showing signs of a change in seasons. Earlier this week is was clear and warm. Then it rained – well not in a real sense – more of a mist but enough to warrant putting the windscreen wipers on intermittent for the first time in months. Discovered that the rubbers have been baked hard in the relentless sun so they don’t work properly any more. Anyway it was all very exciting but over in about 5 minutes.
Since then it has been hazy and warm, suggesting Summer is on her way back in. Displacing the cool hard beauty of Winter. Tiny tiny buds of green are starting to appear on the ends of branches already. Like Carmen Miranda dressing for the party that is Summer but she is still selecting the right shade of green for her dress. No fruit bowl for a hat yet.
More and more of the wild animals are encroaching on the feeding spot. A lone Eland comes in at last light; nyalla are around all day – the whole family; giraffe have been browsing the trees nearby lending a touch of elevation to the scene, and last night a rhino at the waterhole. Warthogs are losing condition fast. The really thin one died yesterday. We cant keep pace with buying sacks of food for everyone.
Did anyone look out for that Mars thing? I did of course, being a dreamer of note. Checked on my Stargaze programme though and it looked like the four planets – Saturn, Mercury, Venus and MARS are following the Sun at the moment NOT the moon. So it figures that the action is happening up above at MIDDAY not MIDnight. Duh.
The fact that the four planets are in alignment is in itself unusual, and I think that if you see the evening star after sunset, then you should see the other three. Mercury and Venus are really close together; Saturn is closest the Sun and Mars is the fourth.
Anyone know the significance of this astrologically?
Lastly, I’ve noticed that buttons are coming off my clothing faster than usual…especially around the waistband. Is this a sign??
Scene at old Chobe Safari Lodge, in Botswana:
There is always a chaotic scene when tourii are scrambling to climb onto game viewing vehicles in the after lunch haze. Somewhere in the jumble of camera bags and seat saving a monkey managed to grab hold of a pair of binoculars and took them high up into one of those giant trees.
Other tourists raced forward with cameras to record the scene. One frantic visitor was pointing furiously – completely unable to rectify the event. The monkey looked down with mild interest having discovered that the binoculars were not edible or really fun to play with – he started losing interest. However, the strap had somehow become hooked around his neck. He wanted to drop the wretched things that were now drawing far too much attention his way. He pulled on them this way – that way – but they wouldn’t leave him alone. To the anthropomorphic amongst us it appeared that he was looking through the binoculars – this caused much hilarity amongst the greater group, and a barrage of camera shutter noises.
Finally they came free. He dropped them and we saw them tumble in slo mo to the soft grassy lawn below. Luckily no damage.
Unlike the baboon who stole a camera from the camp site, and took it up into a tree leaning over the river. When he finally dropped the non food item, there was a loud sploshing noise and it descended into crocodile country. Irretrievable. No ‘sorry’ either.
But enough about our primate pals…for now
The last few days are showing signs of a change in seasons. Earlier this week is was clear and warm. Then it rained – well not in a real sense – more of a mist but enough to warrant putting the windscreen wipers on intermittent for the first time in months. Discovered that the rubbers have been baked hard in the relentless sun so they don’t work properly any more. Anyway it was all very exciting but over in about 5 minutes.
Since then it has been hazy and warm, suggesting Summer is on her way back in. Displacing the cool hard beauty of Winter. Tiny tiny buds of green are starting to appear on the ends of branches already. Like Carmen Miranda dressing for the party that is Summer but she is still selecting the right shade of green for her dress. No fruit bowl for a hat yet.
More and more of the wild animals are encroaching on the feeding spot. A lone Eland comes in at last light; nyalla are around all day – the whole family; giraffe have been browsing the trees nearby lending a touch of elevation to the scene, and last night a rhino at the waterhole. Warthogs are losing condition fast. The really thin one died yesterday. We cant keep pace with buying sacks of food for everyone.
Did anyone look out for that Mars thing? I did of course, being a dreamer of note. Checked on my Stargaze programme though and it looked like the four planets – Saturn, Mercury, Venus and MARS are following the Sun at the moment NOT the moon. So it figures that the action is happening up above at MIDDAY not MIDnight. Duh.
The fact that the four planets are in alignment is in itself unusual, and I think that if you see the evening star after sunset, then you should see the other three. Mercury and Venus are really close together; Saturn is closest the Sun and Mars is the fourth.
Anyone know the significance of this astrologically?
Lastly, I’ve noticed that buttons are coming off my clothing faster than usual…especially around the waistband. Is this a sign??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)