It had been a damn long while since I had made an outdoor fire in the wild. Sure every now and then I light up the firepit at home. But that isnt the same as making a fire in a total outdoor pit.
The sound of the wood cracking, the sissing of the left over of moist coming out. And in this case...the tjirping of the crickets in the night. A whole lot of them
Staring into fire sometimes just feels like staring into the ocean. It doesnt leave much room for anything else. Because every second it different and it lets the mind drift away.
In the case this was a wood fire which by most South Africans is started to get a 'braai' going, a barbeque. But it was passed dinner time already and the only thing that suited was a bottle of wine.
The camping was entirely empty as it is not high season here as yet. Just a lonely motorbiker who turned up late in the dark was the company. A retired old friendly dude who told stories about life and motorbiking through Africa and how he had broken his leg in a trip when his bike fell on top of him and he had to dig out his leg first before he could leave again.
Stories for the next generation. Stories by people who just go sit next to their friendly neighbor and share their stuff. I really like this about South Africa. The kindness of everyone and generosity to share whatever they have with them. Whether if it is an experience or their coffee. Us Dutchies can take a bit more of an example on that.
The woodfire was burning into warm ashes and in that same time the wine was flowing like it should. South Africa is a wine country for a good reason, but there is so much more to see.
It was time to hit the sack as the fire slowly died out.
