It's crazy to have posted about a day in snow just a few days ago (though it was not referring to this month in Sydney). There is only one word for tonight: HOT.
This evening's sunset was just beautiful... streaks of pink glowing behind our neighbours' jacaranda tree. As I enjoyed a 10 minute evening swing in my stripey hammock (a gift for my 37th birthday), my bare arms and legs were warm, warm, warm. Thousands of flying ants zig-zagged up, up, up in the warm night air, mozzies bit my arms, crows crowed and cockatoos sqwauked. What is is with cockatoos? My goodness they SCREEEECH across the sky.
The water shimmers peacefully in the twilight and I can hear boats arriving home at the jetty, voices carrying up to me on my deck amongst the trees. My boys are in their bedroom behind me, ceiling fan on, door open. We sleep with open doors at our house, though it's going to be difficult to sleep tonight.
I wonder how our Zimbabwean is sleeping. He's in the US of A for the first time, discovering southern fried chicken and Santa Monica boulevard. I bet his eyes are wide open and his soul is soaring. It should be. He works hard and deserves a little adventure, even when it will be mostly work. We like traveling to new places, that Zimbo and I. I can't be sure what he likes about it, but I love seeing how people live in different places, how they talk amongst their friends and families, what's important to them, how they build their homes and spend their days.
A girl in Stellenbosch, South Africa, asked me once, what had all this traveling taught me? I can't remember her name but I remember the kitchen we were in, and I still ponder her question, 13 years later. I guess it's taught me about freedom, choices, that the world really isn't very big and we are all connected through human spirit.
This evening's sunset was just beautiful... streaks of pink glowing behind our neighbours' jacaranda tree. As I enjoyed a 10 minute evening swing in my stripey hammock (a gift for my 37th birthday), my bare arms and legs were warm, warm, warm. Thousands of flying ants zig-zagged up, up, up in the warm night air, mozzies bit my arms, crows crowed and cockatoos sqwauked. What is is with cockatoos? My goodness they SCREEEECH across the sky.
The water shimmers peacefully in the twilight and I can hear boats arriving home at the jetty, voices carrying up to me on my deck amongst the trees. My boys are in their bedroom behind me, ceiling fan on, door open. We sleep with open doors at our house, though it's going to be difficult to sleep tonight.
I wonder how our Zimbabwean is sleeping. He's in the US of A for the first time, discovering southern fried chicken and Santa Monica boulevard. I bet his eyes are wide open and his soul is soaring. It should be. He works hard and deserves a little adventure, even when it will be mostly work. We like traveling to new places, that Zimbo and I. I can't be sure what he likes about it, but I love seeing how people live in different places, how they talk amongst their friends and families, what's important to them, how they build their homes and spend their days.
A girl in Stellenbosch, South Africa, asked me once, what had all this traveling taught me? I can't remember her name but I remember the kitchen we were in, and I still ponder her question, 13 years later. I guess it's taught me about freedom, choices, that the world really isn't very big and we are all connected through human spirit.
"It has rightly often been said that the independence of an individual is only as strong as his ability to at least feel that he is not identical with his body - and thus not with his gender, sex, race nor folk either."
- Manfred Schmidt-Brabant, The Spiritual Tasks of the Homemaker
PS. for those of you who enjoy a bit of vicarious travel, you might like this blog about five lucky ducks.
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