As I write this, the Hollies' hit song of that long ago summer, He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother, is on the radio It brings back those memories so vividly that I can feel the sun on our backs as we walk down that track, hear the crunch of the gravel beneath our feet, smell the warm coats of the horses grazing in the field, see the cold clear water of the pristine Silvermine River gushing down the valley in eddying pools and tinkling falls. A detour into the farm fields to pull up a few carrots for the horses was part of the journey.
Today the caravans are gone, the trees burned down by wildfires, the horses are grazing in the Elysian fields and the swimming pool has been reclaimed by the river. The valley is part of Table Mountain National Park and the public may freely roam across the grassy meadows along the riverbanks.
But I think I preferred it when it was 'ours'.
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