And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
Living here in the Cape the weather has loads of personality, no two days are the same, in fact the weather can change a couple of times in the same day! I went grocery shopping in George yesterday and the weather was so lovely and warm I wore sandals for the first time in months. During the evening though, the weather began to change, the wind came up and started whipping around the house, making the floorboards creak and the hanging pots & pans in the kitchen jangle softly against each other.
With Mr T away I’m able to catch up on all the True Blood episodes I’ve missed and indulge in as many chick flicks as I like and lately I’ve been on a Ryan Gosling kick. So last night I drifted off to sleep listening to the wind and thinking about Ryan Gosling but ended up dreaming about Eros Ramazzotti instead, also not quite the PG17 rating I was going for but still and all it was better than a slap in the belly with a dead fish.
By the time I woke it was light already but the sky was overcast and the wind still blustering away at 26kph. There is something about the wind that stirs me up, it excites me and makes me want to climb to the top of a hill and spread my arms wide and shout, letting the wind catch my voice and carry it up over the hill and far away. So even before my coffee moment (I kid you not) I grabbed my camera, set a slow shutter speed and went outside to try to capture some images of the wind, the results weren’t mind-blowing but I think I’m on to something, just need to experiment a bit more…
In the image at the very top of the post you can sort of see the lavender bushes moving and our anti-mole windmill whizzing around at a rate of knots.
Why Portuguese? Well c’mon, for a start I got them in Mozambique about 7 years ago and they also look Portuguese, especially the guy with the moustache. They have moved with me from Randpark Ridge, South Africa to St Antoine, Mauritius and back to South Africa and Sedgefield where they hang outside my front door here at Custard Cottage, permanently worshipping God with upraised arms. I’m fairly attached to my Portuguese angels.
All my love