Chasing Windmills

For our evening walk today we decided to hike up to the windmills behind the house. It seemed like a good idea when we decided to do so, but half way up I wondered whatever possessed me to undertake such a steep climb. But the scent of the eucalyptus trees and the phenomenal view of the valley the higher up we went was well worth the effort. It was sheer madness, but absolutely no regrets!

That feeling of being on top of the world came alive this afternoon, as we caught our breath and marvelled at the magnificence of the valley. If trees and rocks could talk, I am sure they would have many a tale to tell, dating back several millennia. I closed my eyes and felt the greatness of the land, the spirituality that emanates from the core of nature and imbibes everything with a presence and vibrancy that cannot be transmitted through photographs. No camera can ever do this landscape justice, as it can never convey the expanse nor the power.

My daughter knows that when she is with me and I am in full possession of my senses and camera, there is no escaping posing. I mean, what photographer in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to pay homage to nature in all its forms!

We had the best of intentions to hike down another road after descending from the windmill, but I took the coward’s way out and opted instead for candlelight dinner on the rooftop terrace at sunset. Our timing was perfect, and this is what we caught:

We said grace with gratitude and sighed at the perfection of the sky. It was the most poignant way to mark my father’s sixth death anniversary.

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