Seventh heaven

YOU guessed it. Seven more sleeps.

Abel’s here today. He’s patching some roof leaks, and your tin shack that’s going to store your worldly possessions, mightily whittled down in scale and  number, mind you; it’s also going to get some damp-proofing.

It has to be like that.

The shack you write in is only 2x5m, and it is the only place to store the boxes of odds and ends that embellish your home and fill your cupboards.

Abel, your right hand man, will make sure it is waterproof and that the boxes are raised and covered with black bags.

There are papers too, that await your attention, sometime in the future. 

One A4 envelope is full of Loeriesfontein. You’ve wanted to travel to Loeriesfontein, for a long time, since you lived in Cape Town in the early 1990s .

The village, in the Hantam district of the Northern Cape, is exquisite in spring; the wildflowers roll out in luxuriant carpets of exhilarating colour. They make the most of their August/September display.

The intensity of the bright blooms is enhanced if you look at them by bending over and peering through your open legs!

It’s true. You do it in Namaqualand; you stand with your legs astride and let your body flop forward. Your face must point to the sun before you start, and your back must be turned on the flowers. This is because the flowers look into the sun.

And now, they’ll be looking at your bent over bum! 

The rush of blood to your head enhances the thick fragrances of the flowers, and the bees buzz louder.

For now, your wooden hat stand full of hats is already hooded in the corner of your shack.

Hats vanish under a black garbage bag,

You pack things, cover things, tick off items on the to-do list.

Your heart quickens.

It’s not long. Today week you’ll be on the wing.

Flying to your future. Your love.

(ends)