On a recent trip to Plett, we were treated by our hosts to breakfast at an out of the way restaurant -
On the way back, wanting to show us some of the tragic damage after the recent firestorms there, they chose a narrow gravel road that used to be boundaried by tall trees, densely packed, with thick undergrowth.
It must have been very beautiful.
Green, green, and shady.
Like a secret emerald tunnel.
What remained were charcoaled trunks reaching like scarred arms to the sky in supplication.
So quiet, so sparse
No undergrowth, just a little new growth at the base of some of the trunks.
At first glance, the saddest sight.
"You never used to be able to see the sea from here," volunteered our hosts.
"Now look, you can see it clearly."
I looked, changing my focus from the near disaster to the more distant view
There lay softly folding hills, overlapping each other like carelessly thrown green materials, and behind them the azure blue of the ocean.
A breath taking sight!
Tragedy had opened up vistas never before seen and brand new perspectives -
That scene keeps speaking to me
It has a myriad tales to tell.
Maybe it will say something to you?