It’s an eye opener to realise that today in 4 months it will be Christmas Day.

Totally bizarre to think that this year has disappeared… sped past while we didn’t really go anywhere.

How we lost everything and gained so much in a few months.

How many things changed and how many stayed the same.

How you first had time to do all those little things that have been left for “when I’ve got time” and how some of those things still remain undone.

How the friendships and relationships you’ve had before have changed, some slowly fading and others strengthening through reciprocity even in these difficult times.

How you feel like you’ve got nothing to do and yet the days slip past to where it’s Christmas in a few short months.

In a webinar yesterday someone said

“We shouldn’t waste a good pandemic”

It made me sad and laugh a little at the same time…. And this was the second time this week that I felt like that.

Earlier this week, I heard what I thought was thunder outside.  Although it is not common for us to get rain in August in the Lowveld it is not unheard of.  I walked outside to see what I was hearing and saw the grey flat cloud bank to the north.

The breeze brought the smell of the rain while I sat down on the stoep.  Looking up into the Marula Tree I saw 6 hornbills puffed up, enjoying the afternoon sun. Out of nowhere a bearded woodpecker flew up and started pecking on the tree stump that makes the support for the stoep’s roof. Completely oblivious of the world around her she is going about her business with a focussed dedication that is enviable.

While I’m sitting there absorbing the smell of the rain, the feel of the breeze, the sight of the hornbills chilling and the woodpecker beating against the wood, I become aware of a long – unheard noise intruding into the space.

Far overhead I hear the sound of an aeroplane approaching.

It takes me a moment to identify what I’m hearing. It has, after all, been many months since I’ve heard a jet flying over us.  Then I realise what it means. Aeroplanes mean people, people mean guests, guests mean income and income means survival. Elation bubbles up inside me… HOPE!!

And just as suddenly I realise that this artificial sound has completely distracted me from the peaceful space Nature had gifted me with just a few short moments before. I realise that guests mean busy and busy mean no time to sit and enjoy the peaceful space.

I feel happy and sad in the same moment.

This, one of the lessons I’ve learnt during this pandemic.

Look for the small beautiful moments, embrace them.

One cannot hide away from the bigger world out there but as we start emerging from our lockdown cocoons, understand the you need balance.

Never again will I let myself get so absorbed by what the world demands that I forget to give myself the space to truly acknowledge what I’m feeling, to see what I’m seeing and to smell the rain when I can.

It’s been a precious time and to a certain extent I’m not ready for it to be over yet.

This in itself is something I need to unpack for myself a bit more, and I will.

 But right now, I’m going to have coffee on the stoep and watch the birds for a bit.