Flaneur; my back to the wall

It's with my back to the wall that I can watch the world. While remaining as unnoticeable as possible. To blend in. I'm not one for attracting attention. But I'm rather tall. That's why the wall.

It is the most perfect day to have chosen to leave the house.

Driving up the road instead of down, even though it's slightly longer and uphill, I choose it for the momentary glimpse of the Ocean. Looking down while swinging right my breath is taken away in wonder. Every time. I live here!

It's the same reason that I take the M4 to Umhlanga, then Durban, instead of the much speedier freeway that cuts through happy-making swathes of sugarcane. The slower drive with windows wide open and endless glimpses of the mighty Indian. Whether reduced rain sky vision, or universe-wide cobalt skies that suck my very eyeballs out of their sockets and to the end-and-over-the-very-edge of my earth.

I love this subtropical city of sunshine, shorts and slip-slops no matter the time of year.

Gateway is Saturday packed, and airconditioning cool. Just below the ridge Umhlanga 'village' simmers on the Ocean edge; it's all that's between me and the containered ships awaiting entry to Durban harbour before heading back up Africa's eastern coast to Europe through Suez or striking out towards India, China and Japan.

With my back against the wall sipping coffee and typing notes, I can see as far as I want.  My only limitation is me. Me.

Strayed

It's stopped, in the early hours of the morning, the rain that's lashed the house for two days.
Croaking frogs, more deep throated than those I'm used to at home, are interspersed by silence, then crickets, and then by the first large aircraft that I've noticed in days despite the nearby international airport.
But no dripping, sodden leaves, and sheets of rain; although 100 mm is expected through today. Then summer sun for the weekend.
As I arrived on the N2, 22 km north of Zinkwazi, on Friday, a stray dog ran in front of my car. At 16h00 on a Friday afternoon I was stuck on the side of road and with what should have been the insides of my car, then hanging out.
After a good and snotty sobbing session I came to my senses: I was unscathed, I was alive, I had been doing less than the speed limit, if not I could have rolled the car.
Without transport I've been able to explore the coastline on foot, both by running and walking, and I've had - at least twice - the opportunity to be wonderfully soaked through to my skin, and to jump in puddles; all of this with a broad, toothy grin on my gaunt dial!
To be oozing energy, fitness, leanness, mental health and wellness is a gift from the most high.
Now back to bed and deliciously deep sleep - I'm still needing tablets - and to think this nighttime rambling all started with an early morning pee.