‘Confusion’, oil on canvas. Under painting for a painting of the gardens at Rustenberg. A smear of colour that seems to hold its own. And now???

Beach, sun, and the grizzled collection of locals drinking drafts first thing in the morning. A sound decision on their part as the coffee was awful! Polly waded in the the ripples of low tide, the colours of the water mesmerizing. Cape Town at its seductive best.

In the cottage garden, the clivia’s are showing off, while the pincushion protea flowers preen in the sunshine. Yellows, golds, red and oranges dominate the spring garden, with only a hint of the gentler blue, mauve and white summer colours pushing through. Moles actively messing up the green lawn.

Polly not sure about being transformed from her ‘Farm Dog’ look into an ‘Airport Date’ Border Collie. Something about the wild tangled bit she prefers. Happy enough to see Kirsten. All the hair tugging forgotten.

Mangwenani. The Spa not my favourite place. Soothing hands, and fingers of magic merged us into the sunset over the mountain. Mesmerised by the flow of dance. Carried to a different space by the singing.

Filtered sun, perfect for the gardens at Babylonstoren. The clivia walk, spectacular, and the rest of the garden magnificent, bursting with vigor. Not a contemplative visit, as the garden is bustling with activity. New growth is pulled into shape, and the ravages of winter storms repaired. We sat outside the glasshouse restaurant for very good scones and a plate from their charcuterie and cheese selection, with their gentle Chenin. Spoilt only by sullen service that seemed focused at ensuring our sit was so unpleasant that we left to make way for new people.

Evenings of premeditated, unscheduled, wine and snacks with friends at the cottage. Kirsten spoilt us with her famous burger patties, and we have a mountain of bottles for recycling.

Rain streaming through the valley, the cottage isolated by dark, brooding, pine trees dripping with water. Flames dancing in the fireplace carrying our laughter to the heavens.

My time in the vineyards extended by the need to have minor surgery for a melanoma. The result of a lifetime spent in the sun?