OCTOBER SESTET

My untidy, overgrown garden is akin to a poem – a poem that changes with the seasons and the light. On this hot afternoon I walked across the unmown grass to admire this clambering rose that has wound its way through a tangle of undergrowth from the terrace below to grace the top of the Dais cotinifolia trees. From that lofty spot it almost glows in the late afternoon light and the white flowers remain luminous until there is no longer a vestige of light left in the sky. It rains white petals throughout the day.

I turn to admire the patch of flowers that I nurture as best I can with little water at my disposal. They provide cheer on sight.

While engaged in this admiration, my attention is drawn to the bird feeder being visited by Bronze Manikins.

I turn to see how the nasturtiums are doing in their pots and am greeted by these happy colours.

Next to them are the pink flowers from a broken off twig that I once picked up in the veld.

Now, covered with tiny praying mantids and an assortment of minute insects that have leapt off the unmown grass, I retrace my steps to enjoy the much cooler interior of my home when I spy a bird hopping about the branches. It obligingly steps into the sunlight to reveal itself as a female Pintailed Whydah.

I said my garden is a poem – more accurately it may be the kind of sonnet that draws attention to this and that aspect of it. If that is so, regard these pictures as the sestet that rounds off the exploration of a garden filled with life.

Advertisement