Pringle Joy
ThalleonAdmin
05/04/2024
Pringle Bay – I abandon my car and for days I walk, keeping pace with the rhythm of the ancestors who wandered these paths. In slow time I take in the shifting curve of the beach, tidal roar and calm. Breathe in South Easter and North Wester.
Along the melkbos mini-forest, after rain, Buffels lagoon widens into a tidal river. I swim between reed banks hung with nests, below Hangklip and the koppie range. I open arms to dawn and sunset sea, fynbos veld, the pulse of birds and creatures. Here, I explore with my beloved heartner and friends, mingling in markets, Pirelli restaurants (as starry as Michelin ones) and coffee shops where synchronous conversations spin glisten-silver webs.
Pringtonians (or is that Pringwegians?) are as individual as Montana, the dog, incarnating this life as a resident sheep. Nourished through these images, I ply the life of a story smous, writer and teacher. This Christmas poem (one of many inspired here at False Bay’s western crab leg) celebrates the Pring I love:
Pringle King
imagine the child born here
where the wind whirls around
the Hangklip hung in sun.
on such a night the stone nipple
ringed in aerola mist
ghosts beneath the milky way.
the stable might have been
the lighthouse near the ’no room’ hotel,
and the donkey, a duiker
somehow bearing the woman.
the cradle strewn with fynbos,
pincushion, lemon finch feathers,
and a Mary blue disa, awaits.
the lighthouse signals
to the southern cross,
beaming its own star
across the water, breaking
to illuminate the angel fish
and mussel cluster clinging
to the rocks of faith.
the whale thrashing her bulk
gives birth in the bay.
dolphins croon and cuddle the shore.
a baboon with baby clung to her belly
leaps down the mountain side
to escape the Herod Alfa male.
as dassies, otters and swallows
come to adore, owl keeps watch.
the franklin, myrrh-maid
and golden eagle arrive
riding thermals and surf
with gifts of veneration,
pain and begin again.
the fisherman father,
his line hooked into
this heavenly haven,
reels it in to greet the wild sea.
from a sand dune
above the kelp line
where blood-beak oyster catchers
hatch their Yuletide chicks,
he plucks for his firstborn
a full-bloom protea King.
December 2018
ThalleonAdmin