Springtime, let it rain
Spring is an important time of year no matter where you live, a time of sudden beauty, of hope and new energy. I don't know what it feels like in the rest of the world, but I do know that when you live in South Africa, it's magical.
Two months ago, everything was dry and dead. No leaves on the trees (and even the evergreens looked sad), brown grass crumbling on dusty, almost arid soil. No snow, no moisture at all in the air, which is so dry it burns the insides of your nose and cracks the skin around your lips and fingers. Veld fires have left miles of fields and wetland areas blackened and sooty.
Until one day, there's a new smell on the wind. A sweet, inviting smell of jasmine. A beautiful, gorgeous-smelling plant that only blooms for a few weeks. It's like our version of the Japanese sakura trees. Suddenly, green starts shooting up amongst the burnt, blackened soot, new buds appear on the trees and within days everything is verdant and new. Birds return, weavers build their nests. Crickets begin their chirping. The air warms and people go from wearing several layers to shorts and t-shirts within a week.
The only thing that doesn't change is the dryness.
Despite all the new life blossoming all around us, it still hasn't rained. September is usually the time. In fact, an old bit of Afrikaans lore says that five days after the full moon in September, it will rain. That day is today.
It's windy and a bit overcast. Last night, the wind blew and carried upon it that promising smell of rain.
So we wait, and we hope.
Two months ago, everything was dry and dead. No leaves on the trees (and even the evergreens looked sad), brown grass crumbling on dusty, almost arid soil. No snow, no moisture at all in the air, which is so dry it burns the insides of your nose and cracks the skin around your lips and fingers. Veld fires have left miles of fields and wetland areas blackened and sooty.
Until one day, there's a new smell on the wind. A sweet, inviting smell of jasmine. A beautiful, gorgeous-smelling plant that only blooms for a few weeks. It's like our version of the Japanese sakura trees. Suddenly, green starts shooting up amongst the burnt, blackened soot, new buds appear on the trees and within days everything is verdant and new. Birds return, weavers build their nests. Crickets begin their chirping. The air warms and people go from wearing several layers to shorts and t-shirts within a week.
The only thing that doesn't change is the dryness.
Despite all the new life blossoming all around us, it still hasn't rained. September is usually the time. In fact, an old bit of Afrikaans lore says that five days after the full moon in September, it will rain. That day is today.
It's windy and a bit overcast. Last night, the wind blew and carried upon it that promising smell of rain.
So we wait, and we hope.