At breakfast today, over mixed herbs and a light olive oil drizzle on tomato with scrambled eggs, most scrumptious and a lovely time, I wondered out loud where the last five years had gone to. Then, sixty months ago, we had camped by the River Tarn and then, on the 5th, we were in Bourges on one of the hottest days of the year. Yesterdays are out of reach now – although I can still feel the heat, close, doused by French wine, and only memories give them a shape. Like the one when I met the Buddha on the road. I won’t use since – it is such a big word and we use it loosely. So much has gone by. (Insert a since if you wish.) At the time it did not feel like a flash. Odd how now it does. Like the first twelves years of my life. I crammed in everything. Even waking up in the middle of the night, shivering. It was a cold Joburg night. My blankets fished out the window. After that I needed to sleep on the far side of the room, away from any face appearing in the window, not thinking for one moment of the person who needed the blankets more than me.
5th August, 2020