Tag Archives: ponder

I’m walking

9 Sep

my walk2

I unlock the security gate and open the sliding door. The  early morning air is cool, not cold, refreshing. I turn  around, close the security gate and shut the sliding door.  It is Monday morning and I’m walking.

I stroll till the end of the driveway and turn left into  Hanepoot Street. (For those not familiar with the name,  it’s a variety of grape.)

At the end of the road, I take a left. It seems to be the theme this morning, left and then left again.

It appears most people have left for work already; the streets are quiet on the first day of the week. I take a look down Barbarossa as I pass. Can’t say that it looks different than the last time, but also not that it looks the same. I ponder if the people who live on Barbarossa notice it too, or don’t notice it for that matter.

A block on, I take a left, again, into Hanepoot. It’s a circular road that swings all the way around and back to where I excited the driveway.

Hearing a couple of crows squawking above, my eyes follow them for a while against the crisp blue sky. Magical mist clouds cover the lower slopes of the mountains at the end of my field of view. I wonder what is hidden below.

I cross Barlinka and Tokay. The sound of a plane makes me look up this time. I hear it before I see it. I wonder where it’s off to.

At nr 18, construction services are offered, We take care of all your building needs. Two big green gates silently swing open at nr 40; the white reverse lights ignite on a vehicle.

A fellow morning walker approaches from the front, three dogs of varying size on some leashes. I wave good morning, she smiles.

After Alphonse and Isabella, I take a right, not a left, into Sultana, another variety of grape. The smell of freshly cut grass surrounds me. A vehicle with trailer and Garden Services painted on the side is parked at the curb.

A coral tree, covered in bright orange flowers, throws a shadow over the front lawn of nr 24. Two thick-knees (birds) cross the road. Spring is in the air.

Red and white danger tape and a lone orange traffic cone surround a hole in the pavement in front of nr 28. It appears a water pipe burst, maybe over the weekend; the municipality will probably send someone out later today.

The green portable toilet is still in front of nr 8. At least I assume its nr 8, there’s no sign, but 6 is the home/house before and 10 the one after. The owners are re-modelling. I wonder when they will be finished. They are moving ahead though, the walls are higher than last time.

I round the corner and take a left, again, back into Hanepoot, cross the road to the other side and back up the driveway.

I open the sliding door (it’s squeaking, needs some oil), unlock the security gate and check the time. It’s less than half an hour since I left. I thought I was away longer, it certainly felt like that.

I should have kept on walking…

 

©LIRYN DE JAGER

My notebook

2 Sep

 

??????????????????????????????? With an uninterrupted view of the Atlantic  Ocean, I ordered a glass of chardonnay  and a plate of grilled calamari. The sun  was shining; it was a crystal clear spring  day.

I took out my notebook and camera, laid  it beside the glass. I took a savoring sip,  picked up the camera, snapped a few  frames, opened the notebook.

The calamari arrived. I pushed the  notebook aside, squeezed fresh lemon  over the cubes, added some ground  pepper. I looked up; taking in my  surroundings, life was good.

One scoop of chocolate-mocha gelato hit the sweet spot.

A brief interruption as two ladies leaving paused at my table. Touching my shoulder, the one asked:

“Are you a writer?”

“Well yes, mam, I am.”

“I thought so,” she said, “have a nice day.” They left.

What was it? Was it the black notebook and the camera? Was it the gazing at the water, followed by scribble-scratch-scribble? What was it?

You believe it for the briefest of moments. Then you don’t. You know it’s a long shot. That’s where the magic happens.

 

©LIRYN DE JAGER