Skyline of my content

Summer's here, and with its arrival please welcome The Wind.

Just like The Mountain is huge and begs disbelief, as is the ferocity and rage of the south-easter, hereafter known as The Wind.

When it batters and bashes like this I'm less inclined to venture outdoors, choosing to remain within the vortex of my flat, deeply cocooned. I have a dread of leaving. Even though as human beings we quickly adapt to conditions, on every level. Sometimes I only leave here to forage, for food and wine and anonymous conversationless company. Like to Jamaica Me Crazy, or to Cafe Ganesh in Obs. 

Even now, as I sit at my desk by the window, which is one large sliding door, it's pummelled and pushed and resented.

It's 15 days away from the summer solstice, on 22 December. This was the Woodstock skyline at 20h00 last night. Looks can be deceiving: it might have looked like a fabulous summer's evening, but it wasn't. The south-easter raged against Cape Town for the entire day and late into the early hours of this morning. 

At the end of a jumbled day internally, I craved people. People that I didn't know. I walked from work, in Lower Gardens, to my local, Jamaica Me Crazy in Roodebloem Street. The views of the harbour bathed in the golden early evening sunshine, and, in the far distance, of the Hottentot's Holland mountains - from the high-level road through University Estate lifted my spirits. 

I took the pic through the bathroom window; you'd be excused for thinking there wasn't a breath.

Chilled white wine, a chicken schnitzel, a second glass, a chocolate brownie and ice cream: I splashed out. 

I spoke to no-one but the waiters, but nevertheless enjoyed the smoky company of the gregarious crowd; JMC remains a special, cosy place to me because there's not a pretentious bone to the place, nor to the people who frequent it.

Despite the wind, which had not even slightly abated, I opted to walk home: I was right, there wasn't a soul on the moody, wind-swept streets; it was a pleasure to walk, it's downhill all the way home anyway. But, I won't do it again in the dark.