An attempt at rediscovery and finding a way to write again…
There’s this place just north of Durban, that we use to frequent often growing up. It’s also one of those special places to me. Surrounded by a nature reserve we use to go there on weekends for a braai and picnic or I use to escape there from campus when things were getting a bit much.
Once you head out on the yellow trail for a short hike, you can see the most amazing views. Rolling hills, topped with trees in all their finery, dressed in their best greens and the sweetest voices calling from nests among the finery. Walking through archways created by the overhanging branches and spotted and dotted with white flowers, you turn down the partway and climb endlessly to the bottom of till you feel the cool breeze rising from deep within the canopy calling your name. Inviting you towards the sound of rippling brooks and bubbling streams. As you move towards the sound and get closer and closer the soft sounds turn into faster waters, calling out.
Step through the breaking trees, not more then inkling in front of you runs a stream.Following it closely upstream, you can hear a deep gurgling rushing sound. A little further up and you see one of the most breathtaking, jaw dropping unspoilt wonders of nature. A waterfall gushing down into a dark whirlpool of water, it reminds you of a washing machine in spin cycle.
This is my place; this is the place that is special to me. That holds my breath and lets me breath again. Somewhere I feel at peace. I watch the falls. The gurgling plunge pool and I let it ease my worries and mind.
I miss that place. One day I will go back and find the peace so breathtaking, so brilliant, and so untouched by the outside world, by the mundane life that takes us on an ever fast moving race to the finish line. So much so that we don’t have a chance to stop and enjoy the wonders of the world around us.