What lurks behind an innocuous bush on an insignificant path in the high mountains ….
This gorgeous beast, who caught my eye while out and about with DH in the hills of the Northern Drakensberg this afternoon. Silently going about its business and looking like an expert web weaver, it presents quite a fearsome sight!
“Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair…” ― Susan Polis Schutz
I’m not a huge horse fan, cats are more my thing but on a recent break “in the country” we got up close to these gorgeously speckled examples of the species. The first thought that came to mind was apache horses and Cochise thundering across the American plains, but after a bit of digging it would appear they are officially called Pinto’s by those in the know. Whatever the official terminology may be they appeal to me, I like the mismatch skin colouration and quite a few had different coloured eyes as well.
Because I am a woman
I choose to have a voice,
I choose the right to express my opinion and to be heard.
Because I am a woman
I reserve the right not to agree with you,
I choose not be your chattel.
Because I am a woman
I choose the right to be treated as a human being
I choose the right to be treated as an equal.
Because I am a woman
I reserve the right to decide whether or not I have children
I choose to ignore what my cultural heritage and religious beliefs dictate.
Because I am a woman,
I choose to love and be loved
I reserve the right to be courageous and feisty and tough.
Because I am a woman
I choose to be in control of my destiny,
I reserve the right to choose who walks beside me.
I really never have a plan on my blog. The talented writers who post every day and craft wonderful tales and witty narratives have my greatest admiration. I tend to “write” exactly what comes into my head, irrespective of whether it makes terribly much sense but that’s the fun part of having your own part of the universe to let your hair down. These odd little snippets of narrative just tumble out of nowhere, much like the ball on a roulette wheel …….
“For the heart knows no healing in the pain of living,
That which once was is no more.
I am empty,
A vessel without a rudder
Untethered on an endless sea of vacuous concern,
I turn from the voices
The endless tide of ceaseless voices
I turn into the black.”
![images[1]](http://bandsmoke.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/images1.jpg)
I came across the image on the web, can’t seem to find a source – it appealed to my train of thought at the time.
My mum and I were talking about hands the other day. She suffers from severe arthritis so her thumbs go every which way but straight and as a result she can’t abide her hands. There is no pain but to her they are unsightly. To me they are so much part of who she was and who she is – years of hard work in her business, taking care of her family, being a wife and mother that they are a badge of honour (after a fashion).
I looked at my hands tonight, gripping the steering wheel, making a salad, holding a cup – a few dings and scrapes here and there so with the aid of some fancy techo gadgetry… hand art
“I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.”
Maya Angelou
Sorting through some photos for printing (DH is an old fashioned kind of guy and likes to look through a “proper” album), I came across these two taken in the mountains July last year. Same image, one very early in the morning as the sun came up with a mug of tea in hand and the other late afternoon after a slog up one of the surrounding mountains.
They strike me as “lonely” images for some or other reason. Perhaps because of the absence of people or maybe because the windmill was on its own – whatever, I like the light as well. I’m sure there should be a fancy technical desription for it but I just like it.
