New Chapters

I felt really bad: spraying the wasp nest with bugspray. Some dropped instantly and some flew away to fatally dive-bomb the delicious-monster. Well, mixed feelings really, if I have to be honest. It all started on my birthday. the big five oh. I perkilly popped onto the deck to water the maltese-cross begonias that were really coming into their own and two whacked-out wasps attacked me from under the alcove and stung me in the middle of my forehead. eishh!! : let me try and explain the pain - I've often stepped on things like thorns or huge splinters or ripped my arm or shoulder while trimming the bougainvillea - but it was as if my head was clamped hard against a concrete wall and then struck with a couple of six inch nails. my language became explosively expletive as I wobbled back into the house... I enjoyed the anniversary of my birth with a pre-hangover hangover. I kinda forgave the evil little waspy tykes - but then was attacked a couple more times over the next few days. so forgiveness or not I nuked them with the bug spray. dead.

then the year staggered to an end. we enjoyed a few days with friends at Zinkwazi. one early morning I took a walk. (I found that away from home - it was difficult to get a bit of necessary alone time. well alone with God, I mean.) I set out with the guys who were going fishing - we walked north along the beach; and once they had consumed themselves with the business of fishing; I continued along the shore. The sand was snug and soft and tugged deeply at my ankles. The sea appeared glazed with the fine mist of morning. little crabs tumbled in the seeking surf as they fed off tiny nunus quite oblivious to my passing. a small sandpiper ran ahead - stopped - ran ahead as if to taunt me into a chase. and when I showed no threat - it moved off my path and busied itself amongst the flotsam.

I decided to walk until I could not discern a single sign of human life. a bit difficult really as my footprints followed me relentlessly. so I walked in the foamy water for a while until I found a huge fallen tree. it must have washed out of the lagoon when the recent torrents opened the river to the sea. it lay obliquely before me with its water washed trunk sticking out toward the murky horizon. I climbed on and made myself comfortable.  Looking south, my footprints had been obliterated by the constant wash of the beaching waves. north : untouched beach and dunes. and before me, the vast and yawning ocean.

then I prayed. I thanked the Lord for all the stuff that makes life in the this part of Africa so cool. I thanked him for all the answered prayers. Then the hard bit: I said goodbye to those of my family and friends who had died during the year... I whispered words to each of them... and listened for answers but received only a lick of salty sea spray. I sat long and emptied my heart of the accumulated baggage of the year... on the return march I mentally ruminated on each upcoming project. new chapters with clean slates. I'd joined the Durban Mens Choir; and Patti and I were both co-opted onto the Durban Catholic Players' Guild Committee - plus a few other personal type projects (gotta get somewhere with playing my mandolin). soon I arrived back at my fisherfriends and their fisher-stories. and then it was back to brekkie and coffee. the new chapters have to be written...

"All the leaves are turning and the sky fades to gray
Strange our life coincides with the seasons of today
Who's to say where the wind will blow"

(lyric from Lifehouse - 'Chapter One')  -  pics taken at Zinkwazi