Opposites

Terri comments of how reading here makes her aware of the oppositeness of our seasons - hers and mine. I am in winter looking forward to summer and she enjoying summer bounty and preparing for winter. She is not alone. Since beginning this blog I have been made aware that my seasons in the southern hemisphere are not those presently being experienced in the North.

Some things happen at the same time.... it dawned on me that our cherry trees blossom at the same time as those in the North, and that was a wondrous thought to behold.

But mostly I like the yin and yang effect that this oppositeness of seasons has.

I loath being cold and here in this part of Africa when the "real" cold (no snow of course!) lasts a mere six to eight weeks and the heat for months our houses are built airy and open and  not ideal for keeping winter chill out. Yet reading of summer in the North I am reminded that the cold does not last forever and that the world turns, and in time summer and warmth and heat will be present again.

Late Summer Afternoon

Today my neighbours have been quiet. Their young children have not even played joyfully and noisily in their pool. I would guess that some serious hangovers were the order of the day and that the children have gone off the Granny while their parents recover.

And so I got my silence. A balm to my soul and spirit and frayed nerves and poor tired body after a hectic tax quarter.

The silence and solitude seeped into the cracks and crevices brought about by the stresses my everyday life. Filling them, providing secret water sources for the dry times that will likely lie ahead. As the afternoon wound down I was treated to the wonder of a glorious golden sunset, comfortably warm in the dying heat of the day with bees gathering the last of summers provender amongst the nodding flowers of the pink basil that is their favourite at this time of year. Watching with deep pleasure the group of Babblers scuffle in the leaf litter for bugs, until chattering almost as noisily as my neighbours yesterday they flew off, low across the wall to chatter and chirp just within earshot, and even more idly watching the lazy swirling of the gold fish in the pond with the smell of water tangy in the late afternoon warmth

The sun sets quickly in the tropics and I was reminded that winter is almost here by the wheeling and gathering of the European Beeaters to their evening roosting spots, knowing that they will soon wing their way across the vastness of Africa to their summer breeding grounds in France and Germany. Their distinctive musical twittering is so much the sound of late summer here.

This time of year always seems to me to be a celebration of all of summer's growth and fruitfulness, and golden afternoons such as this one are summer's reward.