MUSIC & NATURE

The birds are different. The trees are different. The flowers are from books I’ve read and the grass grows in broad straw-shaped zig zag structures outside the patio where I’m currently sitting writing this. 

The journey here went smoothly, as smooth as it could when travelling across the world. We left at night and I arrived in the evening from Bergen, Norway, to Kigali, Rwanda. It was winter when I left and summer when I arrived. 

Then I slept for eleven whole hours. Mental but here we are. The older I get the better I sleep. 

I’ve made myself a second coffee and my friends came back home. They told me the names of the trees next to me and of the fruits growing in the garden. It hit me that so far I’ve only observed the new and not yet asked for their names. The avocado tree is huge and there are young avocados hanging from it. The papaya is being eaten by a bird I don’t yet know the name of, almost covered by the lower branches of the tree. Beautiful pink flowers face south and have been named hibiscus. Then there are bush cats, normal cats that lives in the bushes and the hedges, nowhere and everywhere. The one I’m looking at is black and white and was born here in the bush by this house. It’s small and I think our Popsy would have loved to play with it. 

Stress leaves my body on this first day here. But I read the news with horror and disbelief. How is history repeating itself and is it too late to change it? It’s sad and in my ignorance I will step on the grass now to feel more at peace.