How does one begin to describe a morning in the Ixopo hills?

The screeching of the cicadas starts with the sunrise
Followed by the incessant calling of the piet-my-vrous… bulilding themselves up into crescendoes of beckoning … come lady come… come lady come …come lady come
Other birds in the chorus.. low, high and gentle tones, lacy threads of rhythm, deep warblings, add to the chorus

I’m sure that this is part of the intoxication of the place
This buzz in your head loosening the faculties overlaying the growing tranquility in your soul
The sheer excitement and visual splendor
The all-senses spectacle of nature going about her business
at full unadulterated tilt

Early morning softened by the moist breeze coming off the mists that toy among the hills
Providing sweet touches to what otherwise would already be an intolerable heat

The ground underfoot a riot of growth and death Solid steady support to all … all this

Each breath
Each step
I am a part of all … all this

I am a part
A part of all this


Shirley French
Buddhist Retreat Centre, December 2019

© Shirley French