Trees talk in whispers
Thank you to everyone for the warm welcome, and especially to The Frock Report, Zee and Let them eat cake for featuring Bluestockings. Please keep commenting as it helps us to discover other South African blogs (we love Thando's Pretoria-based Dilo) and we're keen on constructive feedback. Also: notice anything different about the top two photos? They were shot on Michelle's beloved film SLR. Film's ambient magic, along with the AE-1's dragonsnap shutter, is hard to beat.
When I put my cardigan on this morning, I never thought I'd end up in the tropical section of the botanical gardens...but our trip with Pauli reminded me that I hadn’t been there to dream in a while. I have always had the habit of squatting on my haunches when relaxing, and have even been referred to as "the little Indian" (somewhat ironic since I'm 185 cm tall!). The last time I visited the gardens, I was squatting on a bench in the green shade, immersed in a book. Hearing a click, I looked up in surprise and found myself facing a throng of Chinese tourists, all with super-sized lenses directly targeting me! With my honey-coloured floral dress and fairy-like squat they must have thought I was a statue (or a garden gnome come to think of it!). Oh crumbs...
Bonsai trees fascinate me to no end. How is it possible to have a perfectly formed baby tree? The mere idea of it is simply charming. To me, Bonsais are the stuff fairy-tales are made of. Minute tales of the imagination told to try and describe a greater one: the mysterious tale of life. If only I could have one of my own! A Bonsai tree and a teacup pig and this great fairy would be set for life.
A miniature Bonsai oak tree, over forty years old—a teeny tiny version of the beloved one outside my apartment window. One is never alone when a tree is nearby. Trees talk in whispers through their leaves. When I left this morning, there was no time to check my reflection. But it was all right; my tree murmured an approval as I rushed by.
When I put my cardigan on this morning, I never thought I'd end up in the tropical section of the botanical gardens...but our trip with Pauli reminded me that I hadn’t been there to dream in a while. I have always had the habit of squatting on my haunches when relaxing, and have even been referred to as "the little Indian" (somewhat ironic since I'm 185 cm tall!). The last time I visited the gardens, I was squatting on a bench in the green shade, immersed in a book. Hearing a click, I looked up in surprise and found myself facing a throng of Chinese tourists, all with super-sized lenses directly targeting me! With my honey-coloured floral dress and fairy-like squat they must have thought I was a statue (or a garden gnome come to think of it!). Oh crumbs...
Bonsai trees fascinate me to no end. How is it possible to have a perfectly formed baby tree? The mere idea of it is simply charming. To me, Bonsais are the stuff fairy-tales are made of. Minute tales of the imagination told to try and describe a greater one: the mysterious tale of life. If only I could have one of my own! A Bonsai tree and a teacup pig and this great fairy would be set for life.
A miniature Bonsai oak tree, over forty years old—a teeny tiny version of the beloved one outside my apartment window. One is never alone when a tree is nearby. Trees talk in whispers through their leaves. When I left this morning, there was no time to check my reflection. But it was all right; my tree murmured an approval as I rushed by.
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