What I love about living in the heart of the country is that no journey can be undertaken lightly. It's an hour to Cape Town - most beautiful of cities - an hour to Stellenbosch, 30 minutes to Paarl. So to go anywhere beyond my two villages, perched on the lower slopes of the Kasteelberg, I must plan my trip, and I must have time.
This sounds contradictory. After all most people are wanting do to things more quickly, and I'm happy to do something more slowly. But to go anywhere I must traverse the vast wide-open plains, rimmed with mountains, that connect my small villages with these other towns and cities. This allows reflection and contemplation, akin to a meditation, allows time for my thoughts to settle and new ideas to pop into my head. I love those long journeys.
At this time of the year these wide plains are the deepest, freshest green, with the canola fields a zing and blitz of lime yellow between. I thought, when I moved to Riebeek, that the landscapes would change with the seasons, but essentially remain the same year on year. But recently it hit me, and I couldn't believe it took me so long, that because of crop rotation the thousands and thousands of acres (or hectares) are never going to be the same, from one year to the next.
A few years ago, one October, I was driving back from Wellington and was thrilled by the triangular stooks of hay in the fields. As I approached Kasteelberg a curious Zeppelin-like cloud hung over crest of the mountain. Seeing with a photographer's eye, I raced home to fetch my camera and tripod, and raced back the 6 to 8 kms to take a picture in the slanting light of a late afternoon.
And how glad I am that I did that, because I have never seen that field, mountain, cloud, the same again, and never will. Now the massive combine harvesters that go from one farm to another, like Leviathans crossing the country with their entourage flashing lights, now they cut and process hay into huge rolls. I doubt I will ever see the traditional stooks of bales again. Progress marches on and takes with it those iconic images that make one think of abundance, fertility and the generous earth. We will have to re-jig those images that we've grown up with and seen in countless harvest scenes and paintings through our childhood. Now it's massive rolls that look like a slice of ma's Swiss Roll.
Not that anyone makes Swiss Roll these days.
I rest my case.
This sounds contradictory. After all most people are wanting do to things more quickly, and I'm happy to do something more slowly. But to go anywhere I must traverse the vast wide-open plains, rimmed with mountains, that connect my small villages with these other towns and cities. This allows reflection and contemplation, akin to a meditation, allows time for my thoughts to settle and new ideas to pop into my head. I love those long journeys.
At this time of the year these wide plains are the deepest, freshest green, with the canola fields a zing and blitz of lime yellow between. I thought, when I moved to Riebeek, that the landscapes would change with the seasons, but essentially remain the same year on year. But recently it hit me, and I couldn't believe it took me so long, that because of crop rotation the thousands and thousands of acres (or hectares) are never going to be the same, from one year to the next.
A few years ago, one October, I was driving back from Wellington and was thrilled by the triangular stooks of hay in the fields. As I approached Kasteelberg a curious Zeppelin-like cloud hung over crest of the mountain. Seeing with a photographer's eye, I raced home to fetch my camera and tripod, and raced back the 6 to 8 kms to take a picture in the slanting light of a late afternoon.
And how glad I am that I did that, because I have never seen that field, mountain, cloud, the same again, and never will. Now the massive combine harvesters that go from one farm to another, like Leviathans crossing the country with their entourage flashing lights, now they cut and process hay into huge rolls. I doubt I will ever see the traditional stooks of bales again. Progress marches on and takes with it those iconic images that make one think of abundance, fertility and the generous earth. We will have to re-jig those images that we've grown up with and seen in countless harvest scenes and paintings through our childhood. Now it's massive rolls that look like a slice of ma's Swiss Roll.
Not that anyone makes Swiss Roll these days.
I rest my case.
Brilliant photographs Rhoda! You've caught that 'zing'!!!
ReplyDelete