Desert Days
It was quite tricky being a fox in an African desert. The nights were chilly, and perfect for the furry covering of foxes to strut the Playa and investigate all of the things under cover of darkness. The daytimes were full of searing heat, and winds that sent dust swirling through Mrs Fox’s roof-tent whenever the screens were loosened.
The light was mellowing on their first full day in the desert, when a sharp knock came from under their steps! Mrs Fox crawled to the end of the tent and peered out, suspiciously, wondering who on earth could have located them hours from the nearest town, miles along the R355 into the Tankwa Karoo?
A cheery face, framed by a silken hat, grinned up at her.
“The Playa provides!” yelled Mrs Fox, scrambling part way out of the tent to hug their friend from Berlin. “I’ve come to invite you to the first burn, this evening!” he announced, bowing deeply. The Foxes shrieked with delight and tumbled, like a pair of foxes, down the steep ladder of the roof tent. Scrambling in their various bags, they put together outfits suitable for crossing the Playa, and set off, the three of them, linking arms and remarking in wonderment at the sights on their way.
A giant table lamp, switched on and off by a huge rope cord, lit their way intermittently, along with many bright creatures and vehicles, playing both alone and together, as they found their way to the emotions of the first South African burn of 2019. The three friends huddled together on the edge of the cordon, their stillness absorbing the memories of others, and of themselves.
The flames began to lick the art work, racing to reach the top. A tension was released and the Foxes held on to each other, watching the disappearance of the old right in front of them. The ashes swirled in the light of the flames, and the background of the Southern Hemisphere clear skies reached into vastness above them.
Time settled.