T here is something we have being doing that may become a ritual. The thing that Lance and I do on Friday nights. When the sky is clear and the stars are calling, it goes like this: We load mattresses into the back of the truck, blankets piled thick against the winter cold, a flask [...]

T here was a moment, a few weeks back now, when the sky over the Swartberg turned the colour of an old bruise, and something in the air told every creature on this ranch to take shelter. And then it came, tap dancing ever so loudly on the tin roof of my home. It wasn't [...]

T here is a moment, pegging washing to the line, when the wind arrives before you are finished. It came this morning, moving down off the Swartberg the way it does, and the sheets filled like sails before the last peg was on. And I stood there in the middle of all that white billowing, [...]