Today I feel far away again. Usually, in the rush of to-ing and fro-ing, in publications, buses, graphs and snow, I'm too busy to really think about it. Today the distance is palpably present in every email and conversation and piece of paper I come across.
This is home. After good rains, about a year ago. With dusty sky, rusty fences, limping gates, the smell of acacias, prickly katbosse, guinea fowl, screeching windpompe, the co-op's grain silos in the distance. And the rich red soil that can, at times, seem so harsh.
I miss it.
This is home. After good rains, about a year ago. With dusty sky, rusty fences, limping gates, the smell of acacias, prickly katbosse, guinea fowl, screeching windpompe, the co-op's grain silos in the distance. And the rich red soil that can, at times, seem so harsh.
I miss it.
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