The natural world calls to me
And I find myself walking the rugged shore line
And scampering over craggy rocks
To find myself on fine sand
Shared with tuxedo-ed birds
Who languish in the winter sun.
So different from their southern neighbours
Who huddled in the snow and ice
These penguins dip and glide in the surf
Like they are on some foreign vacation
Like me, they avoid the touristy traps
And save their money
For more authentic ventures.
When I do head back into town
I venture to the market's of Hout's Bay
And wander the stalls
Filled with arts and crafts
Made by local artists and artisans
I am drawn to the colourful
Vividness and diversity of the place
As night draws us in
Music fills the air
Lulling me into a place
Where I feel at peace
And one with my my heart
In this place
Still cut by its past.
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