Wild at Heart, Cape Town & around, South Africa

i found a place that holds its breath.
soft pressure expressed on all sides.
waiting.
overheated.
and it seems only natural that, curling high on a cliff over Knysna, i find this heart styled vine surging upward.
organic and free to choose form.
pushing forward from the tangle beneath for air.
struggling for survival.
remaining perfect and beautiful.

i watch as the sun begins to slip away while a mild breeze brings little respite.


he is all texture.
his graceful neck, softened with fur and wrinkling in places, appeared out of the bushes.
lazy eyelids dip and fall with his slow bobbing stride.
heat and acceptance.

these animals are teaching me lessons i have been slow to absorb.
their lives punctuated with struggle, but not defined by it.
a placid persistence.
a natural pace.


little baby penguin.
fur dusted with sand.
no colour yet, just a simple brown wash.
the ugly ducking, as a chick.
limp and almost lifeless.
content.
just after his feeding.

i recall that simple childish feeling of just giving into gravity.
belly down and a warm patch of sun on my back.
i want for nothing.
and i think i know how this little one feels completely.
are we so different?


one place again.
a reunion of sorts.
drawn from as far as Scotland to the beaches of....
to have a simple picnic.
one of local red wine, fruits, bread and cheeses.
shoes discarded.
laughter.

and the setting allows us to forget how lucky we are to come together again.
i feel small and important all at one.
who knows when, or if this will ever happen again?
and we don't care.
for now it's a story of friends on a winter beach.


sombre.
my chest is weighted and aches with sympathy.
and lifted again with inspiration.
this is Robben Island, just off the coast of Cape Town.
here is the only space Nelson Mandela could look to the sky above his head while imprisoned for opposing apartheid.

stifling.
oppression.
disgust.
disgrace.
becoming hope.
potential.
historical references towards hope and liberty.

yet when i leave here, on a slow paced boat i do not leave as one liberated.
i leave knowing that i am far removed from such a life struggle.
i leave wondering if i would hold strong.
if i could offer to take blows to protect others.
and retain a certainty self.


he sees me, and looks through me.
as i look through the fence.
it dissolves before my lens.
as i believe i dissolve under his gaze.
he doesn't want to see me in his space.
i do not stay long.