IT’S New Year’s eve. The sun has not yet set and it is that time after the heat of the day when the trees cast long shadows and the sunlight is soft and glowing. There’s a promise of a cooling breeze.
It’s New Year’s eve and I sit at my window with my dogs and a chilled glass of Merlot Rosé. Outside some tiny birds are all a-twitter about the prospect of a flutter in the cool water of the bird bath. The cat rolls on his back on the lush lawn and the Bronze Mannikins take fright and rush to the refuge of the nearest tree.
Outside the window the last of the sun’s rays has cast a pink wash over the clouds and all seems well with the world. As the last hours of 2014 tick to a close I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Will it be as torturous as the past year? How many more tragedies lie in store for humanity? What other revelations will rock the foundations of our fledgling democracy and what other heroes of the people will prove to have feet of clay?
Or perhaps, by some small miracle, it will be a happy time. Mother nature will desist from her demonstrations of destructive power, there with be less political angst, no scandals and a few more coins in people’s pockets. Is this too much to hope for? Perhaps the price we pay to live in this beautiful place is the pessimism. Can we hope for a better tomorrow? When did optimism die?
We seem to wallow in the cesspool of the negatives about this country, a perverse delight in the conversations which always turn to the state of the economy, the price of petrol and the ultimate, the crime in South Africa, especially the horror stories.
The sun has set now so the view from my window is pewter-coloured. There is a lone bird’s call. The crickets pick up their night chorus and far in the distance now the Hadedas’ discordant cries epitomise the melancholy of the night drawing in.
But how grey life would be without hope, without the small things that make life worth living.
Despite the challenges, big and small, that we all face, if we truly delight in the small things we should all come through this year relatively unscathed.
Suddenly, against the Hadedas discord, is the sound of the Red-capped Robin Chat. He’s singing a sweet little tune, slightly off key but it answers my question.
There is no need to be anxious. Although the noise of the Hadedas will drown out every other voice, it is momentary in the grand scheme of things. The Robin will always sing an off key tune that will warm my heart and, yes, we can have hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
Tomorrow the sun will rise, and if we all resolve to be kind and charitable, even in the face of provocation, we can have the country, the community, the family we all deserve. We can make it happen.
Happy 2015.
