For the prompt, beauty, from Viewfromtheside.
Apart from my two babies, obviously, the most beautiful view I ever saw was of the green fields of Greater Manchester from the air, as we came into land. I had just left South Africa with my children, practically running on to the plane to get away from the violence that followed in the years after the 1994 election.
When I finally went back for a visit, I cried as we came in to land at Johannesburg, because I was coming home.
What did I get most out of my fourteen years in South Africa? A little crazy.
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The Laughing Housewife 
Hopefully, you’ve made peace with the experience… SA remains a beautiful country with lots of challenges… 😉
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I have; through poetry, mostly 🙂
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Your perspective on beauty is an oxymoron, and why not. Humans are complex beings.
Jock did his doctorate in Canada, and when he went home after a year away, he was homesick for Canada.
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We are indeed complex creatures 🙂
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Your heart can be tugged in so many ways:
When I get to Gatwick I feel ‘I am here at last”
When I went to Spain i thought ‘I am so happy to be back’
But when I came back to Sofia I thought ‘Thank God I am home safely
Home is where your heart is and where your roots are and where your life is..regardless of where it is in the world
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You make an excellent point 🙂 The world is so small these days, all you really need is a hat 🙂
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You impress me as the type of person who will bloom wherever you are planted, even if it is continents apart.
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They should call you Sweet Al! Thank you 🙂
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What Big Al said.
And when you come back for your next visit, I want you to come to my house for a braai, OK?
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Only if you also lay on some of those mouthwatering dishes you’re always showing us 🙂
And thanks 🙂
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What seems to get lost when such conflicts and violence are talked about…is that most countries…if not all…evolved from similar stages of violence…just doesn’t get talked about very much.
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That is true; but when you’re living in violence and fear you don’t think much about history 😦
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Life’s a journey and we get these concentrated moments every now and then. Returns are funny things. A lot of water has passed underneath the bridge and in another way, none at all.
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You are right. I came back to the UK and a whole lot of stuff had passed me by – news, popular culture, etc – yet it was still my home. And wasn’t/isn’t.
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When we came back from South Africa (I was 4ish, nearly 5 in the mid-sixties) Ma cried as she had left the jacaranda trees behind to find UK cloaked in an early winter: no leaves and very grey. It was November.
When I visited at the age of about 20 it felt like home, in a strange way. And when we went back a few years ago with our boys I had very mixed feelings. Strange.
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Tory Boy used to call them ‘the purple trees’. They were beautiful, and everywhere. I miss them.
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We’ve left bits and pieces scattered around in all the places we’ve lived and loved. When we move, something gets left behind.
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Literally and metaphorically 🙂
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South Africa will always be home even for those living abroad.
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Ja, boet!
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