The Story of Me (Or Maybe You)

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The bird stopped long enough to help herself to a round crimson rose hip then flew off. It was a blustery sort of day and she wanted to get home to her cozy nest before the storm swept in.  As she battled against the wind some of the seeds fell over a forested area but she clamped her strong little beak on the rind which was the part she was most fond off anyway. The seeds drifted slowly to the ground. They fell into the carpet-like layer of leaves until the snowflakes covered them softly from view. The seeds nestled in deeper and fell asleep though out the long winter. When the warm rays of the sun gently stirred the leaves in springtime some of the seeds had settled in too deeply to notice, some became tasty snacks for insects or rodents but a few sent out tender shoots and roots although no one was around to notice. The few that popped through the surface grew slowly and when the canopy of leaves blocked out of the sun, most of them drooped and were too weak to survive. One was blessed with a sufficiently large patch of sunshine for most of the day light hours to grow sturdily on. One day a woodsman strolled through the forest on the day the plant happened to unfurl her first delicate blossom. The hiker was a plant lover at heart and wisely refrained from plucking the flower, let alone the plant, but carefully marked the area so he could return from time to time to see if the seedling was flourishing. The delicate plant had too much competition so the woodman strategically trimmed a branch or two to let in more light, and in his wisdom found more ways to nurture the growth. No one but him knew how well the sturdy little plant was flourishing and it brought a sparkle to His eyes.

I am that tiny plant. I have grown up shy and quiet, hidden by the towering extroverts surrounding me, but I, too, have a place to fill. http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966
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Nature at It's Best

Milton had a way of finding the neatest places for us to explore. I especially enjoyed travelling up the mountain to the Catholic Cottages where we spent a couple nights. Have you ever traveled along switchback roads with lots of hair pin curves while climbing higher and higher up an unknown mountain? Have you even peered through the window at a steep drop off and seen the lights of a city spread out far below you? Have you ever been so closed in by trees that you didn't know what was around the next bend? Probably lots of times, you say, but have you ever done it in Africa?

Finally we reached our destination and parked our vehicle in a tin shed. Now to clamber up those moss covered boulders and flat rocks to the 'hotel' higher up. It was night, mind you, and we weren't quite sure what we were getting in to.

The experience was somewhat rustic because of the cold and also the water system. A trickle of water for my shower did not seem quit adequate! Here was one time I was very careful to make sure the water was thoroughly boiled before having a cup of tea. Fortunately there were cupboards in the hall where additional blankets could be found so we didn't freeze. One night Milton tried to make a fire in the fireplace in the sitting room, but alas, the wood was too damp! Mind you I am the adventuresome time, so kind of enjoyed every minute of it.

Well almost. Until I saw the big black spider. I wanted someone to come kill it for me because I had vivid memories of a smaller Canadian spider giving me a nasty bite on the cheek and leaving a scar. No one seemed too concerned, and it disappeared behind one of the old fashioned dressers, so that was that.

Next morning we got to see more of the view, and was it ever worth it! There were even outdoor marketers along the road, but we gave them kind of a hard time with our hot and cold attitude. In other words we'd show interest then walk away with seeming indifference and I don't think we bought anything until our very last day from these guys. There was one souvenir I never debated whether to buy or not. A typical sight on this mountain was bicyclists pushing or peddling their machines up the steep incline then coming back with loads of stacked woods higher than their heads. When I saw a model of this scene carved out of wood, it seemed so symbolic of Africa, that I knew it was coming home with me. I bought a beautiful painting done on canvas also. It was of a graceful young woman balancing a pot on her head and carrying a baby on her back. Those are my favorite two keepsakes.

I wish I could paint a word picture that would help you to see how beautiful the lake on the plateau looked as we drove along and saw it in the distance. it was delicately shrouded in mists and there was something etheral about it, in such a unique, yet charming setting.

Ah, me, this doesn't quite cut it!

P.S. We also took a little trek to a hide-away waterfall that was simply beautiful. St. Andrews was it? Such huge flat rocks had water gushing over them, and no traces of contamination by civilization! It was quite a large waterfall actually, secluded by trees and in such a lush,green location.