Water in a dry land



Coming from the rainy North West corner of Europe as we do, rivers and dams are not as special in the landscape. Yes we love the Water of Leith, and we love the reservoir at Flotterstone, but equally the rest of the landscape. Here we do enjoy the grass, acacia and rocks but when we came across a river unexpectedly it was magical.

We set off to see where the footpath from the bus-stop at the road went, not expecting anything in particular.
We liked the goats, and the yellow butterflies which were everywhere (but wouldn't stop to be photographed). The path snaked invitingly in the general direction of the far hills. ...
Then suddenly, and, to us quite unexpectedly, there was river. As you can see it would have been easy to cross on the flat rocks, but we didn't, stopped in our tracks by how lovely it was.

The water was moving downstream very slowly but it had formed the smallest of waterfalls, if you can call it that: a couple of inches wide and a few more deep. With such a narrow channel it ran fast and made a beautiful sound track to the view.
Another day Jes asked if we would like to go to the dam. Yes indeed. It was a little way off the tarred road, and a short walk. We weren't really aware of the river to the left. As you can see we crossed it on stepping stones about which I was a bit nervous because I was holding my camera - falling in wouldn't have been a good idea. Jes is standing by in case I need a hand (yes I did). Peter had his camera at the ready because he has always regretted not getting a picture of me falling off a punt in Oxford, fully clothed.

We were passed by some people coming towards us from the dam. Jes said they were collecting the water from the dam because it was said to be holy and purifying. But, he pointed out, it was purifying because it evacuated the  bowel, probably because it contained waste from the hospital upstream. There were a couple of fisherman at the dam wall who had two fish gutted, ready for sale. given what we had heard we surely didn't want them.

However it was a lovely walk in a lovely place, with lots of interesting history around it - which is probably what Peter and Jes are discussing.

Talking of water, Kelone commented how as a child growing up in a village in the dry landa West of Molepolole she learnt English through incomprehensible rhymes, like 'Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day.'

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