I am reposting this story, one that comes to mind every October, because last night as I stepped into the ink-black water of our horizon pool to cool off, I smelt petrichor for the first time. Petrichor, that elixir to reinvigorate a stifled spirit. Petrichor, that precursor to renewal and new beginnings. Then it rained. Briefly. I am grateful.
Our pomegranate trees are weighed heavy with flowers and baby fruits right now. This affecting sight reminded me of the following blogpost I wrote four years ago, more or less at the same time of year.
The only noise that distracted us during our short stay at La Rochelle Country House in Zimbabwe’s eastern highlands was that made by the birds. Myriad species, mostly unfamiliar to me, trilled us out of bed, welcomed us on walks around the garden, and serenaded our meals on the verandah.
It’s that time of year. August. Late winter on our edge of the Zambezi escarpment. When the earth heats up; when the seeds go wild. My garden is coming into its annual climax and my heart is happy.
It’s extraordinary how quick the transformation happens in this climate.
by Andrew Sant
Vertigo is nowhere
where they are, and time,
too, seems suspended.
Ovoid, working on ripeness
dozens make no demands
on the branches, light,
they might be, as blown eggs,
easily out of reach among
the sunlit leaves.
In the short time since I met Kate Wilson, creator of the globally-recognised jewellery brand, Mulberry Mongoose, we’ve come to know one another a little better mostly over drinks, be it under a fading magenta sky beside the South Luangwa river, over a bush gourmet dinner in Chinzombo, or in an ongoing conversation about creating a signature drink for visitors to her showroom.