Saturday, 8 February 2014

Waking up - Devils Peak

Yesterday I walked through the fynbos below Devils Peak. A blanket of fog was covering the harbour and bay. Only the tower of an oil rig was piercing the tranquility.

Humans and nature meet. The spirit of Madiba and a bird of prey keeping the watch.
It rained the night before. Nature had a wet dream.
Covering everything with an abundance of glittering drops of most precious water. 
Everything is decorated in beautiful freshness.
Drops about to fall, tears of heaven nurturing the earth.
The dry season seems to be over soon. The first protea flowering in a virgin glory.
The proteas are full of birds. Joyful noise is all around.
Moist, wetness lets unfold and buds new life.

I come up out of the fog and the air becomes clear.
I find my aim and direction.
Up at the road, where the water comes down Table Mountain, I see the boundary between the real and the reflection.
I meet a butterfly resting in the grass. It is soaking up the sun to gain strength to fly.
I take of my shirt, feel the warmth and soak it up on my way down.












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