Beautiful small things

There is nothing more breathtaking and inspiring than a magnificent landscape opening up in front of you whilst on the trail. The magnitude and expanse a beautiful statement, making one feel so in awe, inspired and humbled.

Lately however it is the beautiful little things that have been speaking to my heart. The fresh newness of the first Spring wildflowers, many of them so fragile that they only last a day. The small Fire lilies with their drooping fire engine red trumpets are a stark contrast to the sooty black of the newly burnt veld.

A small jagged piece of quartz glinting in the sun on the path. I picked it up and ran my fingers over it. One side smooth , the other rough and sharp. One side a creamy pearl, the other marked with a bleeding purple black stain. The ambiguity of life.

Making my way up a very steep section earlier this week I stopped to catch my breath and turned to take in the view. As I turned back to the path again I noticed right next to me, about hip height, the tinniest little nest. Perhaps a Robins. Perfectly woven into a little bowl and lined with moss. It had been cleverly secured to a few long stalks of grass. So vulnerable and yet at the same time so safe – as are all homes.

I left the trail that morning feeling poignant, deeply humbled and grateful. I left feeling that all the beautiful little things are not really little at all, they are far bigger, and far more important than we care to give them credit for…

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