Marching Orders

March 2, 2015 Posted in Travel

“A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree: the more you beat them, the better they are.”A Calendar of Gardeners’ Lore Revealing the Secrets of The Walled Kitchen Garden. 1875. Fortunately, men came to their senses!

In 1975, platform shoes, miniskirts, anorexia, and the Bob were all the rage. On numerous occasions, I was swept up by the south-easter blowing a gale down Adderley Street. On more than one occasion, I came a cropper when I was flung into the traffic light at the corner of Adderley and Waterkant Street as I negotiated the traffic and pedestrians. My shoes were too high, my skirt too short, and I weighed nothing.

While clinging to my bed last night, I thought our house would succumb to the wind as it groaned, creaked, banged, and clattered throughout the night, bringing back those bittersweet memories. It must rain in the Free State so that the Cosmos can germinate. Precious had his hands full with me this morning, driving back from Onrus; there was to be no wind inside our car.

Stanford's annual Birding Weekend was a last-minute decision, so we arrived late and missed the main attractions, settling instead for a quiet morning exploring the town.

Cape Nature hosted a fascinating exhibition of shark eggs and hatchlings (if that's what one calls a hatching shark), and an environmental department explained water and the sustainable management of our precious water resources. We're planning a hike on the Whale Trail. De Hoop Nature Reserve is the one that has tempted me for ages, but it all depends on B's knees. The 30% pensioner's discount on all accommodation should be a good incentive. The photographic exhibition was interesting. Fernkloof Nature Reserve had a wide range of flowering specimens on display, and the ladies working at their stall were knowledgeable, helpful, and ever so friendly! We did all this within 45 minutes, and then we'd seen it all. Feeling a little deflated and disappointed, I wandered around the antique quarter on Main Rd and found a few collectibles. That’s what one does at Stanford. You eat well, and you can browse a lot.

The exercise wasn’t a complete waste of time; we’ll have to do our research much earlier, as soon as we hear about the next Birding Weekend, and make our bookings early. I was expecting to see birders, tweeters, and twitterers everywhere. Thank goodness I went incognito; imagine if I’d arrived decked out in my Khakis, pith helmet, binoculars, Newman’s bird book, Sasol Bird App, shooting chair, and camera with the long lens? I’d have been the laughingstock of Stanford. We didn’t hang around long before heading to the Fernkloof Saturday market for breakfast. Always a good choice.

On the 25th of February, a friend succinctly said, “Only 10 months to Christmas!” And here we are at the beginning of March; summer’s almost over; the days are getting shorter, darker, and cooler. It’s the month when we prune our geraniums and feed the roses for a final flush of blooms. I’ve spotted butterflies, baby geckos, and a host of foreign insects. I’m sure they’re feeling the chill and preparing for an early autumn. Even the March lilies are early this year, and I believe the table grape farmers' harvest is almost done.

Conversations are peppered with travel tips and stories, some from people on their way to or returning from India; one acquaintance has just returned from his native New Zealand, having sailed to a remote wilderness area, kayaking, cycling, and discovering the fjords. I have a passport, but for now we’re staying put, all our energy going into our Overlander. But with fate or my good Faery smiles, I have butterflies in my tummy: my girl is coming home this weekend with a partner in tow. We’re all off to Kruger for a five-night stay.

Photography is like comfort food for me; it stills my soul, warms me, and makes me smile. I returned to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), Vietnam, last week, and while editing my photographs, I remembered our fabulous experiences there. In the editing process, I’ve relived the colours, the smells, and the people. The heat, humidity, and monsoon rain are hard to imagine now; how lucky we are to have selective memories! I share some of my favourites with you.

There’s nothing more significant than a human face. I love capturing those fleeting expressions that tell stories, hoping you find beauty in them, too.