May 9, 2016 by petrujviljoen
Walking is a virtue, tourism is a deadly sin – Bruce Chatwin, What am I doing here?
That morning was hard. Getting up out of bed was difficult. Two steps to the window were all I had.
A hierarchy of baboons arrived in front of my house, doing what baboons do. The alpha male intimidating the babies and females, adults immodest, everyone grazing, children cheeky… some even ventured over the flimsy, wooden fence into the garden.
I stood perfectly still in front of the window. One or two kept looking towards the house but they didn’t bolt as they usually would at noticing a human creature. I’m sure the reflections on the window panes from outside obscured my image and perhaps they weren’t sure I wasn’t a pillar (of salt). Or a tree growing inside – my first thought. Depressed, even so, negativity can be a reflex.
No other agenda besides eat, play, sleep and procreate. I was jealous of the zen of it all. Saw a baby being tumbled by a parent, not sure what the poor thing did but it merely got up and got on. The alpha male climbed the willow tree across the dirt track. A branch broke under his weight. Falling gracefully, he seemed to take flight, keeping balance, holding onto the branch, working with gravity. Once on the ground, he strutted on. I nearly clapped at the wonderful performance.
I found a wild fig tree they missed, picked a bag full and made jam and ate a lot of it on the spot and had a momentary fantasy of going wild myself, just living off the land. Hoping to go camping soon. I must get a little gas stove, do love my coffee in the mornings.
Break of day a slim relief –
hey look! A circus!