Monday 23 January 2012

A Sunday afternoon

  We drove along the coast road between Strand and Muizenberg yesterday. The sea was a beautiful turquoise and little waves broke neatly along the shoreline. The south-westerly wind blew very moderately on-shore, and large flocks of seagulls stood beaks to the wind, forming a natural weathervane. The mountains surrounding False Bay rose grandly from the sea and colourful fishing boats chugged across the bay.
  When the prevailing summer southeaster blows, the sea is turbulent and windswept, a dark blue-grey, and the sand whips across the road, stinging legs and sandblasting cars. But today was a fishing day. There was an almost constant line of anglers for a few kilometres, rods planted firmly in the sand waiting for that big one to bite. Camping chairs were set up further up the beach for the few resilient women who joined their men, with baskets containing refreshments for the long wait. Small groups gathered, possibly to discuss the bait of the day.
  The scene was one of relaxation and harmony, proving that no matter how bad the world seems to be, there is always a place where man can co-exist in peace with himself and nature. I hope they all caught a fish as well.

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