Mountain magic

June is the month when we have magical days of windless sunshine here in the Cape (interspersed with severe north-west gales and slashing rain!) and it is possible to forget that winter is upon us. Yesterday was just such a day, with a gentle breeze wafting across the Peninsula from the south east, bringing a clarity of light that enabled us to see the furthest mountains to the north and east, in descending shades of blue that gave us perspective on the distance. The track from the parking area at the top of Black Hill going over to Glencairn takes you past fantastically weathered outcrops of sandstone, stimulating the imagination to identify all sorts of animals in various poses, or simply allowing us to wonder at the power of wind and water to shape a landscape over millenia. Puddles remained after the weekend's substantial rain and the dogs took full advantage of the chance to do what dogs do in water - accumulating mud, mud, glorious mud!
An easy hike took us over the plateau that snakes down the Peninsula, where thickets of shiny pale pink sugarbushes are blooming in profusion, and the low fynbos covers every inch of the ground as it recovers from wildfires. In the distance, the low peak of Rooikrantz loomed, not a difficult climb but still needing a few breathing breaks along the way, as three months of lockdown did nothing for our fitness levels. The opportunity for longed-for conversation was fully taken advantage of and confirmed that social media is no substitute for reality.
As we perched on our rocks overlooking the valley, drinking coffee and munching, we could admire the now finished roadworks at Sun Valley. The vast boulevards and intersections reminded me of the roads in the Northern Suburbs, where town planning allowed for good infrastructure in the latter part of the 20th century, while here in the Southern Suburbs we had to make do with the inheritance of a single road winding around the coast since the first tracks were established between Cape Town and Simon's Town. The frustrating traffic problems of the area are hopefully solved for the foreseeable future.
The snow on the other side of False Bay has melted and rushed down the watercourses into the catchment dams of the Western Cape, fulfilling our hopes for a good rainy season to replenish the water supply. The recent drought is still hovering in the background to remind us that nothing in life is certain, and every winter's storm should be considered a blessing.
Of course now we are anxiously looking at the weather forecast in the hopes that it won't rain on hiking days!