This was to be the last day of our ten day trip, and it had to be spent on Table Mountain. "We" means Hannah, Willie and me, I rarely take trips like this with other people, finding the enthusiastic company of my dogs all I need. They are in heaven, tearing around, rolling in the cow poo, splashing around the in creeks, and having the best time dogs could have.
We took one of our favorite hikes, finding patches of flowers, not the massive carpets of previous years. It is always lovely, though. Table Mountain can never be a disappointment.
Soon it was time to go:
"The sadness in leaving is tempered by the fact that Table Mountain will soon withdraw into itself as the rains stop and the temperatures rise. Through the searing heat and dryness of summer it will slumber on, the only green being that of the live oaks in the big canyons, their roots anchored deep in the lava cap. The blue oaks on the slopes will be ashy grey, and the grasses and flowers, along with the creeks, will completely disappear. But then, in the fall, like a sleeping beauty, the kiss of the autumn rain will slowly awaken it, and Table Mountain will once again be clothed in green and decked in flowers, while, far away, I will dream of the return." From "Dream of the Return"
Tomorrow: back to bulbs