Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007-2013. Please give credit where credit is due.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Plus ça change...

Misty, drizzly and rainforest steamy. 

As I feed my sheep the fat chestnuts I've just gathered in the woods, the monsoon weather brings a memory of our little house in Zaria, northern Nigeria, during a gap between rainstorms. The guard is leaning on the gate, lazily disputing with another man in Niger French. Dauda is out back, singing to himself a faintly familiar gospel tune as he prepares lunch. And a herd of skinny white cattle is passing under the avenue of mango trees beyond the fence. 

My ram's head comes up for another handful of the pocket-warm shiny nuts and I see in my mind's eye the head of a white cow come up to steal a golden, juicy mango from a tree. 

As I make my way back to the house, there are fire salamanders on the path, and in Zaria that day I found a chameleon in the garden, shedding his skin. 

It's easy to remember my life in Zaria as a great adventure - and easy to forget that my life in Carmine, while different, is really just the same. 

1 comment:

Clipped Wings said...

Beautiful picture you have painted. I would love to be there.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Plus ça change...

Misty, drizzly and rainforest steamy. 

As I feed my sheep the fat chestnuts I've just gathered in the woods, the monsoon weather brings a memory of our little house in Zaria, northern Nigeria, during a gap between rainstorms. The guard is leaning on the gate, lazily disputing with another man in Niger French. Dauda is out back, singing to himself a faintly familiar gospel tune as he prepares lunch. And a herd of skinny white cattle is passing under the avenue of mango trees beyond the fence. 

My ram's head comes up for another handful of the pocket-warm shiny nuts and I see in my mind's eye the head of a white cow come up to steal a golden, juicy mango from a tree. 

As I make my way back to the house, there are fire salamanders on the path, and in Zaria that day I found a chameleon in the garden, shedding his skin. 

It's easy to remember my life in Zaria as a great adventure - and easy to forget that my life in Carmine, while different, is really just the same. 

1 comment:

Clipped Wings said...

Beautiful picture you have painted. I would love to be there.