Your Kavango

On Sunday it was roast beef and veg in Notties, and as the storm passed, and cool mist and drizzle set in, beers at the Notties pub amidst talk of Trout. Tuesday I was in the city: Lusaka. As I write I am looking out over the Kavango at hot sticky Angola, and with a bit of luck, I won’t miss my flight to Cape Town on Saturday.  Stop the word, I want to get off. But we can’t get off. We need to look after it instead. Here in Northern Namibia their issues are food for thought. Flying in

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With the dew still on it.

Do you remember that scene from “a River runs through it” where the camera swoops across a  rocky ridge, and reveals the two boys running across the open grasslands? Here in the KZN midlands, our landscape, notwithstanding its beauty, is lined and dotted with trees. Not only trees of course, there are fence-lines and farmhouses and roads too, but the trees are significant. Early writings by explorers in this area reveal the extent to which this place was a sea of grass. A world with the dew still on it:  there are still patches to be cherished. I read somewhere

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