It's one of my favourite walks. I take it to both watch and celebrate the rising of the full moon once a month, also to gain - while sobbing my tired eyeballs out - perspective, when life's path seems to have also, mysteriously, petered out.
The blue gums were, last night, in their autumn beauty, and the forest and bush-veld paths were dry.
Today I'm holed up on a chair in the sun in my bedroom. The fire is crackling and the still-wet wood is hissing; I had a load dropped off here and chopped last week. It will take two weeks for it to dry, just in time for Lee's visit.
The hammering and dust from the kitchen is almost unbearable, it's finally being renovated after 5 years. It's all part of my plans, and dovetails into the change and fluidity taking place in my life right now
Aaah, the scraping of shovels on the concrete driveway means that the two loads of river sand and four dead-heavy bags of cement are being mixed. It's plastering time, but not over cracks. They have been obliterated; it's a new start.
But I long for it to be next Saturday.
No comments:
Post a Comment