The rain waited until we got home after a day of adventure to start it’s slow cry.  It happily waited until the sun left the horizon begin it’s nighttime wail.

With the evening in place, with the daytime travels in the past, luck was on my side to not have a sad sky to experience the beauty in this environment.

Driving along the coast of the Indian Ocean, traversing the highway etching along Western Cape, each turn is full of beautiful surprises.  After each curve in the road, you don’t know what sight will be up next, weather it is a long stretch of sandy coast line with bejeweled water peacefully rolling to the shore, or a mountain valley lined with lush tropical plants hugging the road, or a stint of African bush hibernating the road, waiting for the next rain to bring out their color.  There might be baboons hunched in the middle of the black paved highway, not worried about the passing traffic, too lazy to move out of the way unless you stop and try to capture their smile on camera.  You might even be surprised to see lines of straight American Pines standing like soldiers along the pass, strangely fitting in amongst the tropical plants.

The coastline is a rollercoaster following the curves of the mountain, taking you high enough to kiss the clouds, low enough to seen the glimmer of the sun reflect off the mighty ocean.

Nestled into the hillside, between the changing green scenery, mostly along the sandy shore line, are small seaside towns, white houses with colorful roofs dot the rolling terrain.  Each one has a main street fitted with the same name, shops and restaurants welcoming the curious traveler with the charm of a small town.

Sometimes the bay holds you in, reassuring you of where you belong, sometimes the expanse of the ocean gives you pause about your place in this wide world.