“Jim Harrison said that leaving is a kind of dying, and I find I have a great deal of practice. It makes a strange awareness of the provisional nature of existence knowing and seeing things clearly only in approach and retreat, a Doppler Effect of human perception.”
Jeffrey Foucault
The two turbofans spooled up with a deep roar and the mighty Dreamliner lunged forward, picking up speed down runway zero three left at OR Tambo International Airport, bound once again for Doha. All around, in every direction, massive Cumulonimbus clouds were towering above the Northern Highveld. A beautiful stewardess offered me drinks and I settled for coffee and a dash of milk. Seated in the aisle with no one in the middle offered a rare and welcome amount of extra space on an otherwise packed flight back to the desert.
Just over a week ago, on Valentine’s Day, I arrived on the farm after meeting up with my friends Byron and Kayla. Byron drove me out to the farm and we made the most of our two hour drive, catching up on each others’ lives. Byron is an Approach Controller at Johannesburg Radar as well as a commercial helicopter pilot, mountaineer, marathon runner and adventurer. Kayla flies corporate jets, writes her own blog and lives a life of boundless curiosity, adventure and exploration. I love spending time with them and they are always so good to me. Chosen family. I love talking to Byron, picking his brain, asking questions and opinions about life, love, death and freedom. Brothers from different mothers, he makes me want to be a better person, live a better life and be more authentic. I’m grateful to have another man in the arena with me, navigating life’s many battles. The night before my departure, another member of my chosen family, Danie, drove out to the farm and next to the customary open fire barbecue with lighting flashing in the distance we caught up on his business plans, his ambitions, concerns and strategies. He brought his new partner along and it was a privilege to meet her and have them on the farm. We literally picked up where we had left off a few months ago and I was sad to say goodbye to them at the airport on the way back. Till we see each other again my friends.
The quick seven days on the farm were long and hard, full of challenges and solving pressing issues. In my herd we’ve had to deal with outbreaks of some rare diseases, mostly due to the amazing rains recorded over the last three months. When the rains come, not only do the animals, crops and pastures thrive, but diseases, ticks, fleas, flies and other pests also experience a resurgence causing havoc among livestock herds. We vaccinate, treat and manage in the most proactive way possible but it gets demanding and demoralizing after a while dealing with one sick animal after another, day after day. I hadn’t been home for quite some time and I could hear in the voices and messages from my workers and family that my presence was needed. I’m glad I could get some leave and I hit the ground running. We sat down, planned out the week and got going. I managed to meet with my veterinarian to discuss and cross reference my vaccination protocol, discuss the health and fertility of my herd and I also registered the farm to get in line for the Foot and Mouth Disease Vaccine distribution campaign that will hopefully commence soon. Thus far we’ve been spared the awful fate of Foot and Mouth Disease and I pray that it remains this way. I also popped in to see and catch up with my neighbour and mentor Riaan van der Merwe. He is the quintessential cattleman, businessman and a great human being. I learn whatever I can from him. This time round there was no time to meet up with friends or hang out too long with anyone but at one stage during a brutal day of clearing and fixing fences, I looked up at the magnificent blue African sky, heard the chatter down the fence line discussing the clouds rolling in and remembered why I’m doing all of this. The lonely days and nights in Doha, the deterioration of friendships back home, the countless goodbyes, flights and living out of a suitcase all made sense standing on my farm, hands and back hurting, taking one step at a time to carve out a living in my country and land of birth. I tended to the family graveyard and took a few minutes to remember the people buried there and reminding myself what I’m doing all of this for. I sat at my mother’s dinner table and was filled with gratitude as I spoke with my parents, sister, brother in law and nephews. I’m so proud of all of them. I’m especially grateful for my relationship with my dad. So many father and son relationships suffer when farming and running a business together but my father, despite his health and some other challenges, is my inspiration, guide and trusted ally. He always leads with humility, dependability and commitment. He is my best friend and along with my mom they are the light of my life and form the foundation of my existence…….
I’m finishing this newsletter crossing the African continent, Dar es Salaam off the left wing, the vast blue of the Indian ocean to my right. The sun is setting and the cloud tops are turning gold and pink. I’m thinking of a letter I still have to write to someone I just recently met. Our relationship have been purely conversational from the beginning and while going on a walk through the park the other day she told me that she would be leaving the Middle East for good at the end of the month. I’m not sure whether she even realized what our conversations meant to me. They were moments of peace amidst personal turmoil, doubt, reflection and longing. I aim to explain it in my goodbye note. I’m grateful for the time we had. It was terribly short but at least we had it. It will be a poignant farewell but it will make for a damn good song or two. The Muse works in mysterious ways and I’ll allow her in once again, refusing to let the fleeting nature and irony of life keep me from experiencing every bittersweet aspect of it.
“ But you said “Morocco”, and you made me smile. It hasn’t been that easy for a long long while
And looking back into your eyes I saw them really shine.
Giving me a taste of something fine.
Now if you see Morocco, I know you’ll go in style, I may not see Morocco for a little while
But while you’re there I was hoping you might keep it in your mind
To save me just a taste of something fine. “
- Jackson Browne - Something Fine
JB
