Sunday, March 31, 2019

Sunday Afternoon - 31st March 2019 - Afternoon Walk in Illala Ridge Estate


On Friday afternoon I walked from our office container at one end of the parking lot to my car parked near the entrance of the site.  I walked along the palm lined entrance road.  I loved hearing the palm fronds rustling in the light wind.  I thought “I just love such soothing sounds!”


On Saturday we visited John and Brenda and Glenn’s Mom.  Vi’s wounded arm is recovering slowly. 

We drove to a “Millionaire’s Mile” two-houses converted into a Bed and Breakfast, Coffee Shop and wellness spa.  “305 Guest House” is what it is called.  We sat out on the veranda overlooking the bush and the sea way below.  There was a baby-shower party of about twenty women at the table next to ours.  As you can imagine… cheery… and noisy…  As they finished and left in ones and twos the veranda area got quieter.  I loved hearing the quiet sound of the sea below us.  I took a walk to where there was a wedding being set up on the lawn.  I loved the view of the sea beneath the steep bushy slope under us.  We were like four or five stories of bush above the beach level.  I paused and breathed in the fresh air and soaked in the sounds of the waves gently breaking on the golden beach way down below us.  I love the sound of the sea!  I always feel better when I have spent time pausing, and listening, and BEing.

Our apartment is on a housing estate with over 300 different types of units.  You’d think it is noisy… It has times of hustle and bustle.  We look down on the swimming pool.  The sounds of children romping there is familiar – we have a pool at home.  At night when we settle down to go to bed, I love the sound of… silence…  Most nights, very little noise.  I feel very blessed to be here for while we are at the Durban Temple construction site.

I love the music that I love – different music for different days and  times in my life…  I love complex orchestral sounds.  I also love simple melodies in minor keys.

This afternoon I paused for twenty minutes or so and listened to a TED (Technology, Education, Design) talk – about an analysis of the words we use, and how we use them.  “The Science of Analyzing Conversations” by Elizabeth Stockoe.  How important our words are, how we use them, and how they sound to those who hear them…  I love words and the sound of them well used. 
I love listening to TED talks.  I have learnt so much – about so much.  Thank you Shawn (Powrie) for introducing me to them.

What do you love hearing and listening to…?

Glenn says:  water… yes!  And some birds… yes!
I said “Let’s go for a walk to the park…”
“Why don’t we?” said Glenn.

We walked to the park.

Some teenagers/young-adults on the estate were there before us and enjoying their time together.  
We decided to walk up the hill to “the house with the magnificent chandelier.”
It is the last of the mansions on the left hand side up the hill.
At the end of the road is Chantry Point where Alan Rudolph (our ‘boss’) lives.
We enjoyed the beautiful chandelier, and turned around to walk downhill again.
On the left hand side as we walked downhill are the three storied two a story buildings.
In deeper cul-de-sacs on the left are yet other flat units – All with height restrictions.
We met and chatted a while to our resident estate agent walking his dog.
The estate is about 15 years old, built in stages – ours the last stage.
There is one last mansion to complete.
I love the safety of the estate – and the quiet, clean!  Tidy!  respectful living.
We all sign ‘rules’ of the estate before we can come and live here.


This is a view of the complex hiding ours as we look back walking up the hill.  
The park is on the right of the picture where the trees are.


Walking up the hill – mansions on the left, housing units on the right.



One of the six?, seven? mansions.


 The house with the beautiful chandelier.
It did not photograph well…



Chantry Point at the top of the hill – probably with twenty or more double story houses joined one to another in three, four or five a unit.






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