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Mama Afrika and the Seven Pebbles of Life

Mama Afrika and the Seven Pebbles of Life

Date: 2017-01-13
There's no place quite like Mama Afrika, the sweet smell of the earth whenthe rains break the drought, the sounds of the bushveld, and the roar of a Kalahari lion. The trumpeting of an elephant protecting her young. The cry of a jackal the hysterical cackle of a hungry hyena, the noise of rutting impala and the solitary call of a fish eagle perched on a dead tree on the banks of the Zambezi. There's the smell of the smoke from a Mopani wood fire, the sparks disappearing into the night sky as a potjie bubbles in the 3 legged cast iron pot - There's the soot blackened dented camp kettle and raised enamel mugs as we toast yet another African sunset from our camp under the spreading branches of a giant Baobab tree. It's at times like this that one gets talking about past Land Rover adventures and things African.

Then later that night, a new face around the fire asks me how come we are so fortunate to have had a lifetime of so many great adventures. To answer his question I switched on my head torch and scratched in the dirt for seven pebbles which I placed in a line next to the fire. 'Think of it this way, each of these pebbles represents 10 summers, totalling 70 summers and a fortunate man's life span. How old are you ' I asked. '54,' came his response. 'Well, I'll give you four years free for mahala,' I said, and to his surprise I then reached down and tossed five of the seven pebbles into the darkness. 'Gone forever!' I said. 'Great experiences, wonderful times, probably no regrets, but they're over and there's no use gazing into the rear-view mirror of life. I poked the seventh pebble with a piece of firewood. 'The seventh pebble Sorry,' I said, 'but there's no bloody guarantee that you'll still be in good enough shape to enjoy that one. If you are, it's a gift, but in life it certainly can't be relied upon.' So out into the darkness went the 7th pebble. Both of us put down our drinks to study the one lonely remaining pebble.

I bent down and picked up the pebble. 'It's yours,' I said with a chuckle, 'put it in your pocket. I know it's going to become a bloody nuisance, it will get caught up in your car keys and wallet. On the bedside table at night, and back in the pocket again, next morning. You'll rub the pebble between your fingers like a worry bead and it will become smooth and shiny with patina. But my friend, it will become a constant reminder about making the time to adventure.' Cheers, I said, as we clinked our battered enamel mugs together. Yes, the moral of the pebble story is all about turning the Landy key and getting out and enjoying the adventures that Mama Afrika has to offer - I'll see you on the road. Let 2017 be an adventurous one - will keep you posted.