As I lay back and relax while the sun goes down, I can’t help but notice how my environment out here in the bush with all its sound and array of colours puts my mind at ease.
With skies that threaten to open up and saturate our dry lands with hope, and patches of new green shoots that invite plenty of activity near our watering hole, I breathe and feel my fingers write with enthusiasm and flow, and my heart starts to beat at a comfortable pace. The bush and all her elements act as my muse, the words dance out my mind into my fingers.
Ahhhh, what peace, what content and utter balance, what a perfect way to end a straining day, oh yes, I am in an equilibrium of feelings.
And then… “GWAG GWAG GWAG” Harry, our resident hippo has decided that he no longer likes me sitting on the sand bank, and like a two year old brat, he throws his giant head from side to side while vocalizing his disgust at my presence near his watering hole.
I try to whip out my phone to document his drama queen antics, and just as a spiteful child would do, he does a complete 180 and pretends he is as mature as any overgrown hippo would be.
Not only does he pretend to be the accommodating companion, but he exaggerates the biggest yawn possible just to make sure I am aware that he will not cooperate on any level. Oh Harry, I know you too well by now.
At first I am annoyed at his childish attempt to share, or rather his lack of effort made at all, and then I ease up. Harry was here first, this is his watering hole, and as much as I love to share it with him, I know he hates sharing it with me.
So I put down my phone and watch his tantrum take place all over again, and I begin to relax and really appreciate my giant companion for all that he is and all the joy he brings me in one day.
What first hit my ears, and destroyed my silence like an unwelcome off key marching band, became quit soothing and therapeutic.
It’s like giving a child a tambourine in one hand and a shaker in the other, at first the lack of rhythm or melody is annoying, but then you look at the child and realize that you really appreciate everything they do. I don’t have children but I can only imagine it to be the same. No I have Harry, and many other bush companions in which I share my home with.
I know them all, and have given them each a name. Every one of them has characteristics I adore, and a story behind their sparkly eyes.
There is only one thing I cannot appreciate about living out here in the bush. Those blood sucking terrorists, that sound like mini gyro copters when they are anywhere near my personal space. If you have ever lived in Africa, then you are fully aware of their proper name, the Mosquito.
Oh how I LOATHE these annoying little monsters and their determination to make me miserable and leave me in itchy spots that are sometimes in places too embarrassing to scratch in public areas.
I have unusually sensitive hearing, and when I have any inkling that one of these mini vampires are around, I spring into action and arm myself with the nearest form of ammunition. It may be my pillow, a shoe, a towel or even my phone, it really doesn’t matter the object, as long as it serves my purpose of flattening that unbearable sound!
I have tried everything I can possibly think of. Mosquito nets, that end up tangled around my neck during the night and leave me sweating in a nightmare of being strangled and trapped. I have tried bug sprays that only seem to attract the bastards more while I cough up any form of lung I have left from all the overpowering oils used to deter mosquitos. I try hiding under my blanket at night, until my little gap left open to breathe is invaded by one of the carbon dioxide flying trackers. I even tried wearing as many items of clothing as possible, only to wake up and find I have very itchy fingers covered in little red spots.
You name it, I tried it, until…I discovered a wonderful old potion called Gin and Tonic!
Oh how it has saved me from becoming dangerously annoyed. The something or other in the tonic apparently deters mosquitos from choosing you as there next victim. I never had enough patience to go and research it and see the scientific reasoning behind this suggestion, but the fact that I truly enjoy tonic, splashed with generous amounts of Gin made it all to attractive to try.
So here I sit, with a few mosquito deterring potions healthily swigged back , watching the sun go down while Harry does his best to get rid of me, listening to the sound of a blood sucker approaching my space. And whether Gin and tonic truly works or not, I CAN tell you that after a hearty consumption of the stuff, that little gyro copter sound suddenly adds a calming soprano buzz to Harry and his conglomeration of sounds.
So whether I wake up with itchy spots or not, Gin and Tonic truly helps take the edge off of the experience, and I am relaxed enough to sit back, sip my drink, and watch the show nature has put on for me to enjoy.
I may even invite the little mozzie to join me for the grand finale when the orange curtain of sunset goes down and turns the stage to black.
Thank you to Harry and all his cast for allowing me to witness such a wonderful end to another day in the bush, and of course to G&T, the producer that allowed nature, the director, to fully grab an audience’s attention and close the act with an all-round standing ovation.
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