When we think we know that which lies ahead, we limit our opportunity of gaining a lateral perspective. For, each opportunity spotted along the trunk, branches into many different avenues. JCL
We began the hike and found that should we be motivated sufficiently, we could cross the river without the bridge although we were likely to get very wet. However, earlier we had also thought of trying an alternative route through the fern forest. It worked out well and we were able to arrive at the planned destination, mostly with dry feet.
The trail meandered along the river for a fair distance which meant we crossed water on a number of occasions, scrambled over tree trunks, branches and rocks as well as negotiating the slimy, algae covered smooth stones—these are dangerous, of course, as one can slide at anytime. When we emerged from the river, happily we never submerged, the fabulous Catkin Peak and friends confronted us. Two days later, on another hike, we reached the base of that mountain after a tough experience. We have viewed Cathkin from many positions, a sight that especially thrills one of us. Such person will remain anonymous.
The only people we came across the whole day, as we breakfasted at the Grotto, were Melody and Goren. She was a vibrant woman who emigrated from South Africa, met Goren from Serbia in Florida and now live in Arizona. She kept us entertained while we exchanged stories of visits to various parts of the world. By the time we parted, she invited us to share their house in Scottsdale.
Reaching the main waterfall.
Early stages, a tranquil scene with Cathkin dominating.
Another beautiful waterfall. The country's rainfall has been exceptional.
Cathkin and fellow mountains reflect miles away.
Getting his wires crossed.
The outward bound section was in a forest and along a river, crossing it and scrambling along the rocks and branches. This sight confronted us when we emerged. Cathkin Peak and others.
Jen about to cross a slippery stream.
In the forest, we come across one of a few waterfalls. Quite dark most of the way
Constant water flow causes fellow to lend support to a tree.
He concludes it's probably autumn.
A close-up of the big guy, Cathkin Peak. Monk's Cowl to the side.
You don't want to slip while crossing this stream.
Going to take a seat and dream and contemplate.
Something personal, something of meaning.
Over these past weeks, following the passing of Mom, we have been fortunate to balance our lives with tough and enjoyable hikes linked to stays in places of peace and tranquility. We have mentioned the glorious nature of the Drakensberg frequently. It truly is a unique region filled with inhabitants who live outside what most of us call civilization. We believe, if anyone is living the way the Maker intended, in our opinion, they are.
Wherever one wanders in the Drakensberg, one is surrounded by great beauty, mostly tranquility, solitary positions with the occasional passing of a fellow hiker, a local resident on a farm, a car negotiating the tough roads in the distance, various species of animals and many, many birds plus an ever-changing environment, particularly the weather. If we have ever experienced out-of-body feelings (whatever that may be), it has been here in the region.
Whilst there’s a common thread tying together the mountains and the communities living under its shadow, it creates a feeling of community. A small number of people live far apart but have a sense of friendship, of unity. Periodic functions held at hotels, golf courses and other venues bring the people together for formal occasions. Getting kids to school is the difficult part—it often means traveling a few hours a day—a great negative. Many luxuries as well as everyday items one takes for granted, mostly available just up the road in the cities, are not easily available. We can imagine for many city people, including ourselves, this would appear a hardship. I believe Jen and I may have passed that stage though.
Currently, we are living on a working farm. The large garden is covered in trees, shrubs, bushes, tractors, trucks and machinery we don’t even recognize. Staff members come and go, giving off the feeling that much is happening at a leisurely pace but without affecting us at all. It does not take long to recognize the employees and exchange greetings and smiles each day. When we return from a hike, (although this establishment does not provide service), we have found cookies in the jar and our hanging-washing brought inside. Last year, at the Drakensberg Retreat, on our wedding anniversary, the staff covered our bedroom in red rose petals.
Because it’s South Africa, one has to be aware of lurking danger. This is truly a tragedy. We have always felt that should government have just one function, it should be to ensure the reasonable safety of its citizens. As an example, one faces a dilemma each day one drives. The dilemma is much, much worse in the cities. We drive along the S54 and R600, spending an awful amount of time avoiding potholes and worse. We often see people hitching a ride. Good neighbors offer assistance. When in South Africa, we’ve never had issues stopping to offer rides to the elderly as well as women. Young males of course, are another issue. We try to balance our decisions with sense and judgment. While we have picked up a couple of youngsters, one never knows. Out in the country, the decision is easier—in the cities we invariably decline.
In conclusion, I have a need to share a feeling that I have experienced, once again, while staying in the Drakensberg. I would also qualify it by realizing how precious life is and how quickly it can be damaged or destroyed. One never knows what the next moment will bring. Anyway, the feeling is a true sense of coming home to a place I belong. It’s a feeling that many of the people, the environment, the challenges that Jen and I seek, are available in this region. It’s also a feeling of belonging, of being part of the environment, of enjoying the changing weather (exclude winter) that provides one with daily surprises and upliftment. I would think, living here is the ultimate way of melding with the land and adapting to the surroundings where a person can truly find excitement and tranquility simultaneously. Ultimately, it’s a place to be at peace with oneself and the world.
Many seem to be searching for something. I don’t know whether anyone is completely satisfied with their life, their lot, never mind thrilled. Who would know what other people think? Are any of us even honest with ourselves? Life is a struggle, no doubt, but a worthwhile struggle indeed. Have we discovered our true passion? We learned a while ago, until one finds one’s passion, one has not found one’s purpose in life. Of course, for each one of us it’s personal. It matters not what it is, as long it provides a person with meaning and satisfaction…and more.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
Catching up with a few from the Northern Berg.
'Sunrise has broken.'
An unusual pairing. Turned out not to be a match. People have commented on her back. I thought she was a 'curvy' female. Unfortunately, she has also lost an eye. Although a wild horse, she is close to being transferred to another 'place'.
