African autumn

It's dusk: I see, high above, the waxing moon; the sun has sunk beneath the horizon, khaki - tinged pink with the very last light - is the predominant colour; I smell wood smoke on the air.

In this instance, as I type these words while driving, I know that I am an African.

I've just driven through Chrissiesmeer, it's the most beautiful I've ever seen it. There, to my right, is the Breyten turnoff, there's now 36 km to go to Ermelo.