The third wave

It’s a year later and the third wave is with us. We find ourselves on the dreaded red list and not the most welcomed guests around the world right now. It doesn’t feel fair. But life isn’t fair I suppose.

This time twelve months ago, I was about to start my early morning walk. The cut off was looming and I was determined to make it back home in time. Amazing how when we’re restricted we want what is forbidden! I am lazier about walking these days and Xeloda feels like another life time. I do live in the now and I look to the future, but it is also not a bad idea to glance back over my shoulder and realise how far I’ve come.

These days I live in the Overberg, on the edge of the Hemel en Aarde valley. Did I forsee this? Not in a million years. Life takes some surprising turns and this is definitely one of the most unexpected ones. I’ve gone from big city girl to country bumpkin. And guess what…I’m loving it. Every meal here includes herbs and veggies from our garden. My new gifts for friends are home grown and freshly picked. I’m even googling recipes for chilli jams. Archie, despite my fears about moving him, is strutting his stuff here and seriously believes he owns all this. Well he does really. I hear his arch-enemy has finally claimed the turf in Penzance Estate. I know that because my neighbour sent a tentative message, asking how Archie had settled here. She’d spotted a ginger on our roof and feared the worst…

I’m about to prepare a chickpea curry for lunch and it struck me that this time last year was the first time I’d ever tried it. I’ve relaxed my strictly vegetarian lifestyle again but red meat is still not on the menu and plant based remains my motto.

Once again, Autumn brings out the artist streak in me. As the colours change and blend into one another, I imagine brush strokes of gentle light, grainy textures and velvet on skin. I can see the painting even if I can’t produce it. Well not yet.

Archie no longer joins me on walks around the block. But that doesn’t mean he’s not out and about, especially at two in the morning. His new enemy is a pitch black tom and the cat fights continue, despite Xena’s best efforts to protect her boy. I’ve given up rushing out into the street to help. My pyjamas are a bit scruffy for Hemel en Aarde and I’m unsure of how our new neighbours would react. The plop through the window at shortly before three, has become my morning reassurance that all is well in the world outside.

Who would have thought that our long corona journey would not be over? And yet a new synchronicity of rhythms has evolved, in the midst of loss and grief and a oneness with nature is there if we want to embrace it. It seems impossible to see the end of this tunnel. I do believe it’s there. As with all journeys, it is one step at a time. Sooner or later that light will appear, for us all…

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