I Am From.....

I Am From...

I am from glass jars filled with spices, from Mrs Ball’s chutney and hot milk in my tea.

I am from the tropical greenery-lush and sweet. And now,the land of loud birds, the burning sun and crackling bush

I am from the Protea, the Flannel Flower, the mist that sits still. The lavender, the perfumed Gardenia, the sweet taste of Honeysuckle.

I am from framing photographs and keeping letters, from family trees and sentiment.

From building yachts, sailing boats and the majesty of great ships.
I am from people watchers, list makers, thinkers and planners. Spontaneous in action, yet slow to move in the race.

From making the most of opportunities and the refreshment of fresh air. Care of one’s pasture, the gift of laughter and the benefits of tears.

I am from Grace freely given, to free and to bless. To influence living and in catching worries, before they give chase.

I'm from the Southern part of Africa, entangled in English and Afrikaanse lines that bind. Of biltong and milktart; strong coffee, preserves and almond cakes.

From the shongololo throwing that caused my sister’s dread, the monkeys’ weddings, when sunshine and rain met. The rhythmic music of Africa, Ireland and Greece. The pure sound of pan flutes and the calm, quiet of having silence.

I am from suitcases and boxes of photos, some in frames. Of wooden boxes and camphor, from crocheted and knitted items,linen and lace. From woodwork and stone, paintings and beadwork.

The crashing, cold ocean; the wind wild and fierce.
I am from travels and diaries and memories by taste.

Sandra was the start of this writing for me. Her reflections are lovely.

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