Paradise Valley Picnic

I got up early and prepared the stuffed chicken and veggies for the picnic at paradise valley, but was delayed and didn't make the nine o clock rendezvous at the forty fifth cutting.

After finally packing the car and entering the destination into the GPS, I leave home knowing that most of the team members had already established themselves at the picnic and some were concerned that I was either lost or had changed my mind about
attending.

The previous evenings sudden and fierce electric storm had dampened my spirits but the morning was glorious and cooler for the previous nights weather.

Regardless of the GPS I still managed to get lost, but with the directions from a kind security guard I was on track again. Being late meant that I had to park further away, and was forced to carry the cast iron pot further, this just strengthened my resolve to be on time in future.

Having driven around and seen the valley with tall trees i was expecting Paradise Valley to live up to its name, but after paying for the entrance and walking in the shade of these trees, I was glad to have overcome the obstacles and made the journey.

The fires were burning, in braai stands, and families were involved in the communal acts that promoted Harmony and cultivated, bonds and family ties, sharing & learning for the present and future generations in their care, and while I passed large groups of people, I began to feel a little sad that my offspring were all scattered across South Africa.

Q (Qureisha) was 30 minutes further than Lydenburg, Taz ( Tasmin) was in the heart of Capetown, and Nadia was being a typical teenager and showing off her Independence by choosing to spend her time with her friends. Thankfully I had packed their early days with many organised and spontaneous outings of this nature, so I was not feeling totally abandoned by their absence.

Arriving at the chosen Picnic site, I found that the young men were braaing successfully, while most of the congregation, had taken advantage of their industry, to endure the trail to the waterfall and back. Being a bit tired, I took advantage of their absence to relax under the tress on one of the many picnic blankets spread out.

As the exhausted, and sometimes energised, hikers began to arrive, I felt a little sad that I had missed out on what must have been a beautiful excursion. The smell of braaied meat and the beautiful fresh air, seemed to have stimulated the appetites and every one quickly revealed salads, rolls, sauces, before they voraciously applied themselves to the task of savouring the fare bountifully laid out. Young and old and everything in between, claimed logs, chairs, blankets, to sit in groups and enjoy their feast, with groups catching up on news, their experiences on the trail, and occasionally bantering with each other rather loudly, to the enjoyment of all.

The children well fed, began to explore the treasures within the meandering stream, which bubbled gently within view of the adults. The older ones ventured into the stream and were rewarded with tadpoles and other wondorous creatures which they collected in polystyrene cups, eagerly showing off their prize to any adult who showed an interest.

Groups formed and reformed throughout the afternoon, and soon people began to pack and leave. We sat around drinking tea, and planning our weeks activities, amidst some nice story telling and humorous anecdotes by a much loved member who never failed to inspire jibes, but who also never fails to keep the party atmosphere going.
Dawood is an energetic force who has forgotten his age, or never cared much to fall victim to it.

It was with a feeling of sadness I drifted off from these friends to drive home, feed the dogs and lock up the house for the evening. While i type the skies grumble their regret too, and the skies threaten once more to deliver yet another deluge to wash away the oppressive heat.