Saturday, January 30, 2016

Bat outta hell

I'm unexpectedly 1404 km from home and travelling light; one small backpack containing a novel, toiletries and a single change of clothing.
This far north the sun sets much earlier. The sky's bigger. Struck I was, from the minute I disembarked from the orange plane, by vistas of eye-soothing greenness.
Welcome to the perfect summer climate of the Highveld. In comparison Cape Town is barren, bleak and barren with droughtness. I'm relieved to be here.
Sitting topless by the pool I've lit a fire while watching bats swoop in the inky duskness.
I'm here to say goodbye, for now, to my mother.
Memories surge through the wiring of my mind... childhood, adolescence, my foolish early adulthood. The greens of summer, the cobalt blue of this world's ceiling, the veld, the cumulus billows. All trigger me, make me nostalgic, sometimes sore.
This is suburbia, but it's quiteness, peace and (electric fence) security is alluring in its illusion of peace.
I am love.
Twilight peels itself off. The skin below is tattooed black. This is the electric Highveld.

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