Zinkwazi: The sun disappears from here, South Africa's eastern coastline, early in the winter months.
Sitting on the lagoon edge drinking a mug of good, strong coffee while waiting for my beloved, my heart appears to beat in rhythm with the ocean.
Wearing only shorts and a soft, white cotton t-shirt that caresses my skin and does not catch on my chest hair, I'm dipping into Don George's Travel Writing, and Janna Levin's A Madman Dreams of Turing Machines.
Children fishing on the opposite side of the lagoon sporadically laugh on the afternoon after the youth day public holiday. Their happiness lifts my heart even higher while my skin prickles from today's earlier sun.
The breeze is stronger, the air cooler, and the tips of the breakers whiter as they catch-and-then-reflect the last direct rays of syrup-golden late afternoon sunshine; my most favourite sunshine of all the sunshines!
I am rested, I am recuperated, I am alive.
My life is also simpler and more streamlined than a month ago, and almost unbelievably more so than 6 months ago.
I wait - like a big-eyed and excited child on his birthday - for the next move-gap-space-spark (no full stop intended)
No comments:
Post a Comment