A Moment of Awe


A fly settles on my cheek,
stuck in the sweat
of a too-hot morning.

I wave it away. Another lands.
I don’t want to be distracted.

A rusty gate prevents my advance
but cannot block this view of grandeur:
the distant mountain range
hazy after the fire.
Standing rugged and majestic—
immobile on the horizon.

A raptor waits, patiently, precarious atop an acacia.
An agama bobs on a hot rock in the path.
The sun beats mercilessly.
Flies continue to harass my body.

Standing here, I am humbled. In awe.
Engaged in pure solitude—
for one short, hot, sweaty, dusty moment
between flies—

I breathe deeply,
and leave, empowered

My new life and lockdown….

Being in isolation, sheltering at home, confined to lockdown, whatever you wish to call it has allowed me, as with many others, to reconsider and re-evaluate my ‘new’ life.

Until now, I have not been able to fully articulate my reasons for the move, my feelings about it, nor what I have experienced over the last 9 months.

But sitting quietly, very quietly, I can reflect about what I love and value of being here.

I ‘bravely’ gave up my most recent 18-year career and big city life to relocated to Prince Albert, a small rural town in the Great Karoo. South Africa. Here I hope to live a simple, considered, authentic life on my own terms, unencumbered by some personal past difficulties and the rigors of “normality”, a place where I can contribute and perhaps connect to a community and myself. Where I have time and space.

Time to be free, to think, create, learn and write. 
Space to adventure.

To walk in the veld, unhindered by time or crime that allows me to feel and be present. Touching and smelling plants, stepping over uneven hard terrain, exploring dry riverbeds, crunching dry mud flakes barefoot on empty dams, climbing steep rocky and yet unexplored gorges, while at all times being aware of the solitude, beauty and subtle opulence that surrounds me.

Cycling, uninhibited by traffic and tarred roads, travelling kilometres on hard-packed dirt roads, jeep racks and animal paths seeking out windmills and reservoirs, scattered through arid sheep country, sometimes hindered, and challenged by corrugations, headwinds, and horse flies! But, with warm wind on my face, fresh unpolluted air carrying a myriad of new fragrances, encouraging me to breathe deeply and slowly – nature’s own meditation.

Adventuring in my very competent 4×4 Jimny, carefully learning the limits of ‘her’ capability, and overcoming my ‘what if’s’. I feel like I can go ‘where no (wo)man has gone before’ I feel tough and fearless, and what’s on the other side is always exciting and constantly fulfills my curiosity!

Endless vistas of undeveloped dry land, dolerite sills, the magnificent Swartberg Mountains and rocky, ancient post-glacial outcrops scattered across the mostly flat landscape – littered with hundreds of species of xerophytic plants and animals that have adapted to this harsh, but beautiful landscape. Strewn with a collection of stones, fossils, rocks and meteorites, a petrologists dream! Hidden caves with rock paintings, ceramic fragments and flint tools of the amazing Bushmen who shared this place.

Finding water in this place has become such a joy for me. Whether it is from an isolated, noisy, rusty windmill pumping up a few drops at a time and slowly filling a reservoir generated from a gentle breeze, to paddling barefoot in the perennial rivers that run through the Swartberg range. Water is life. To quote from a late friend – ‘Water has no enemy’
On the hottest day in the remotest driest of places, where there is water there are a myriad of living creatures, from minuscule unidentifiable creepies, worms, ants, spiders and scorpions, tortoises, birds, snakes, sheep, buck, all manner of flying insects who all survive and thrive in these miniature biomes…. it’s fascinating!   

Sounds of utter and complete silence or the gentle rustle of a cooling summer breeze through thin acacia leaves. The deafening frightening tropical thunderstorms, with the frantic rushing sound of flooding rivers after a deluge, the distant call of an evening owl and of a daytime turtle dove – have all become my music – far from the madding crowd.

Visions of magnificent (and ordinary), transitory sunrises and sunsets. Night skies overflowing with stars falling onto distant horizons, all humble me and fill me with gratitude.

Kind, friendly people from every walk of life, hardworking resilient characters, and creatives, with whom I feel I can relate. People who acknowledge and greet on every occasion with a wave or a smile – there is no indifference here.

All of this is my new life. I am living :)

9 months!

Where did the time go…if I don’t catch up now, I will forget everything that happened during the last 4-5 months. Winter came and went and was mild according to the locals. It was, but with some freezing days, mild for the rest. I worked hard in the garden …large rockery actually! Jonathan, my hardworking gardener, and I cleaned, cut, weeded, fixed the front fence, and erected a new 30m back fence…I learned a lot! Moved hundreds of stones (no gym required), river stones that litter my property. The garden is now clean and neat, and I can see the wood from the trees and am rearranging my little landscape.

I adventured out a lot, took many photos and lived the life I had hoped for:) I 4×4’d and cycled all over the area. We had some fantastic rain! More in January than the whole of last year!

Endless Vistas
Endless vistas
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Gamka River after the first rains
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Dorps River Swartberg Pass
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Mammatus Clouds
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Newly explored roads

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Distant rain
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Climbing -some adrenaline on the last day of my 63rd year:)
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Bushman painting “Swift” 

I was involved with the Marketing for Prince Albert Open Studios which kept me busy right up to Open Studios on 3rd January. I painted the inside of my house, with help from so great painters. This we did in three sessions and my home looks great now, what a difference a coat of paint makes. I also converted my “office” into a small gallery called Studio 51 where I sell my own and work of other artists.

I collected my daughter and granddaughter from Cape Town International on 24th November – I had not seen them since she was born, and she was then eighteen months old. What a joy and privilege to be a Granny, I was a little nervous that she may not want a hug or connect…but it took about a minute, and she lifted her arms to me to pick her up and she gave me the best hug ever – what a gift:) She has named me Gaya:) I love it

We spend some time together in CT and here at home and the extended family joined us for Christmas. It was a great time. And then they were all gone! So quiet…but I am glad they live in Europe and have a better future.

And then Covid-19……!!