It's an exceptionally busy road this late afternoon as people return from wherever they were for the weekend. Tomorrow's work again. We're close to Port Elizabeth and I'm greeted by the wonderfully cloying scent of Port Jackson Willow. The scent, from my childhood, always heralded the summer holidays and a long and carefree Southern Hemisphere Christmas on the beach with no worries. Because my mother is from Port Elizabeth we spent almost every summer holiday of my first 18 years here. It's an unpretentious and luckily unappreciated coastal city with some of the finest beaches. It remains a very important and special place for me.
Understandably my spirit is slightly less melancholic now. I'm again grateful for my marvelous and often unconventional life and the roads it takes me on. Now I regret my self pity of earlier and move into a grateful, humble space - one that I strive to live in - and give thanks to my Creator for all that I have and am able to experience.
To my left is my beloved Indian Ocean. It's not even 20m away.
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