Miracles

 Smiling and dancing thoughts on the whims of the wind come easy and natural when spring is in the air. It is middle March. The winter chill is still around but new life pushes forth around all corners. We started our roadtrip from San Diego, California back to Texas. The hillsides of California are painted brightly yellow with mostly poppies, or is it buttercups? The mountains we crossed over have the same shrubland and heathland (fynbos) growth that flourishes in the Cape of Good Hope. Every bush is starting to bloom, fine white, or pink, or purple flowers. The Arizona desert bushes are all a big ball of purple-blue or red stalks of flowers. Desert grass which stands just hand-high, are waving silvery plumes of seed, proudly in the sun.

Texas beauty is fascinating! As far as the eye can see, the ground is covered in the colors of the rainbow; yellow, orange, pink, purple, white, blue, red,.. You name it, and it's there. Amazingly, only a couple of species are about a foot high. Two other species stand 6 inches tall. And the majority are about two fingers high. Miracles – all of it. It almost looks like autumn on the hillsides around San Antonio so many colorful bushes and trees are standing out everywhere. But it is spring. All the trees and bushes are budding and shooting new leaves. And the pink myrtles crown it all. Even at our doorstep the evening primrose welcome us with delight.

Fishing

 We went down to the water, just a couple of blocks away. Looking over the bay everyday all the time, is different from being at the water where one can smell the sea and maybe get your toes wet.

The sun is setting. A sailboat sways quietly on anchor. It is windy, but in this protected bay the water is calm. A few thin clouds with beautiful colors of silver, white, gold, orange and red, hang in the blue western sky. It's a soul soothing time. A handful of pelicans rest on top of the pilings. Every now and again one would dive down to fish. But their heads don't move profoundly or come up, as I'm used to seeing them do in other parts of the world. “He's stuck in the mud!” I said. We waited, and waited, and finally one lifts his head and tries to swallow something not visible. “Crabs! They're fishing in the mud, crabs!”