The Journey of the Magi by TS Eliot
'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter'.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraqces,
And the silken girls bring sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a termperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation,
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky.
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
'And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
we returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But were no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
It's November and the jacarandas are still a treat. The Union Buildings, seat of the administrative government in South Africa, in Arcadia are framed by purple. 
From Waterkloof hills the suburbs have a purple haze.
I get sidetracked when driving down streets under a purple canopy.
I never cease to be captivated by the jacarandas in full bloom. The familiar streets are seen through a haze of purple lace; the pavements are pooled with great circles of mauve blossoms which go 'Pop' when stepped upon. In my front garden Tristram stands in the shade of a huge jacaranda with a twisted and rugged trunk of grey bark.
The view east up Marais street. While taking these shots, a passerby comments,"I'm from Durban and I always tell the folks up there to come to Pretoria in October if they are planning a wedding to have their photos under the jacarandas." "Wonderful, aren't they?" I agree, "I live here and I never tire of them. Every year I am out here taking still more pictures." 
We strolled up William Drive in appreciative silence. The man paused again and glanced at me, "Do you know that heaven will be even more beautiful than this? I am a Muslim and in the Koran I have read that the next world will be far more magnficent than earth. Imagine the trees!" "Yes, I'm a Christian," I smiled, "and the Bible talks about eye not having seen what God has prepared for us." He nodded wordless and walked on..
1 June was the first day of winter in My World. Temperatures fluctuated between 3 degrees Celsius in the early morning and rose to a mild 22 degrees by midday. I made a quick detour to Celliers' Park on Venning Street, Groenkloof - about a five minute drive from my home - to snap the aloes in bloom.
What are the colours of winter? In my world they are brilliant orange, green and gold dislayed against the bluest of skies. 
Aloes reflected in the pond as did...
the blossoms of the purple broom.
Bees were busy on the strelitzias.
A young mom pushing with a pram, an old man engrossed in the daily paper, a couple with a picnic spread on the grass - all were enjoying the winter sunshine and the sound of the water.
Pink blooms amidst a web of fine spines which edge a succulent's leaves.
Yes, this is the wild dagga or leonotis as Raph rightly identified in an earlier photo on my blog. The earliest dwellers in South Africa chewed and smoked this plant instead of tobacco.
The lime green trunk of the fever tree. This lovely park, whatever the season, is one of Pretoria's best kept secrets. 
The Telkom tower on Muckleneuck Hill, Pretoria at midday is my contribution to this week's Skywatch Friday. In the foreground the Monkey Thorn (Afrikaans: apiesdoring) is in its own bushveld spring dress - russet leaves and blossoms which resemble furry caterpillars. 
