Now you may think I have left a question mark of the title today. But I want you to read it as a statement, not a question!
How blessed am I!
This afternoon I have driven across the causeway to the island. The tide is high. The water reflects the deep blue of the sky, the gentle breeze just touching the surface so ripples flow. Here, the sea grass rises above the water looking like lush meadows across the blue expanse. Samphire flourishes like a well-trimmed lawn. The little grey and white town climbs the hills opposite me and traffic buzzes along the coast road – too far away to hear, but glinting in the sunlight of this late afternoon.
I have found a bench on which to sit and write. People wander past with dogs of all shapes and sizes.
‘Hello, hello. Beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?’
One sits to wait for a friend and two small dogs to catch them up. The first dog arrives and jumps the metre down the sea wall into the water, then scrabbles up the wall back to us.
‘No,’ the owners cry, ‘don’t come up here.’
But it does. And gleefully shakes sprays of water all over us. Fortunately it is a small, short-haired dog but the spray flies like miniature rainbows, damp and refreshing on this warm afternoon.
They move on after I have reassured them it is no problem and I sit soaking in sight and sounds. Dogs barking in the distance. Two little girls on the greensward, flying bright kites; a Diedrich’s cuckoo calling, calling. And frogs behind me in the marshes.
At this time of year, the African sun is delicious.
And I can’t believe I’m here and this is now my home.
So my opening words are a statement, not a question.
How bless am I!