Home > Art/Photography > Reminiscing.

Reminiscing.

I remember the hot, earth beneath my feet at Kruger.

How ridiculously sauna-like it was in the little, red standard for hours.

The mixes we played over and over and over again on the road.

The books I read in the car to and from Johannesburg.

The infamous road sign: “Arrive Alive” with a buckle graphic underneath.

The turned-over, big-rooted tree on the left side of the road… where locals gathered to catch a ride.

The fancy folk walking next to the not-so-fancy folk, the tension felt, and how I belonged more to the latter.

Warm, huge welcomes of returning home [Modjadiskloof] and the immense love expressed so openly and freely… mostly, without a word other than your name.

Loud silence in the night hours. How it became more and more comfortable with time.
…yet, it wasn’t silent. The chorus of night howled until mind faded into sleep and somehow, tuned out its buzz and coo.

The concerning disconnect at first. The search for self. The finding of overwhelming acceptance in unexpected places. The finding of surprising disconnect in places I once was connected. The finding of self.

The story in her eyes that crossed paths with mine. No name needed.

Jon’s automatic generosity – waking to find my horrific, muddy shoes from the day before walking in Kgapane, completely and utterly spotless: better than brand-new. Dry, hanging over my head on the gutter. Joy. Thankful.

Consciously awake, alive, and well. Sunlit cast shadows on the face noticed differently than before. Sunlit eyelashes. Blink, blink, blink. Blinding. Alive. Sunlit shoulder-tips, kissed and browned.

Changed. Remembering. Reflecting. Reminiscing.

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