This afternoon I found myself in Glenwood at dusk for the first time in many years. I left St Augustine’s mesmerised by the colours of the sunset – literally the hues that you imagine the hero and heroine riding off into. Swathes of cornflower blue, cling peach yellow and candle flame orange seemed watercoloured across the sky. The harbour stretched out before me, an expanse of industrial endeavour which was simply picturesque in this light. To the left of the silvery harbour waters, the less glamourous side of the city centre started to twinkle like a washed-up caberet artist’s earrings as lights were flicked on in cheap flats. It occurred to me that if not for the dodgy location, those flats would fetch top dollar based on their views.

Driving further down the road the harbour and city vista began to vanish, leaving me to examine the details, like a farsighted child putting on a pair of glasses for the first time. Massive trees’ roots wrestle with the tar of the road. The tar is losing the match and the trees burst forth. Their cells must be using the memory of breaking out of the seed to begin that first shoot of growth.

Quaint old Durban homes have not lost the feel of Good Old Durban and their sloping roofs and small verandas cast the mind to days of rickshas and trams to town. Painted in shades of ice creams and their cones they were at their most photogenic in this evening’s twilight.

Unfortunately, the modern demands of traffic did not allow me to rummage for my camera to capture the scene. Now, thinking back on it, I am glad to have seen this evening, as John Mayer says, “through both my eyes” as I am able to sift through the star-numerous words in my mind in order to describe it to you…

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