There is a secret route, which was carved by the Gods for only the brave and the gentle-hearted to be able to follow. It winds its way through moisture, wetlands and tall reeds which sway in the gentlest of breezes. Once home to only indigenous species, it now boasts a wide variety of foreigners. With tall European oaks who tell stories in husky voices about ‘back in the day’ circa three or four centuries ago. Trunks so wide it takes ten people to wrap themselves around it once. The Temperate Forests of Knysna are known by many but only a few truly connect to its ancient and sacred spaces. The air is cool beneath the dense greenery, sunlight just barely filtering through. Trickling water runs always somewhere in the distance, somewhere out of sight but never out of sound. Large patches of wetland with soft stroking reeds protecting the essence of the water from preying eyes, acting as the veil which hides the virgin. She recognized the taste of it all, something similar to the flavor of the ocean. It was history which tickled her tongue, sitting heavily and thick in the throat. Sometimes hard to swallow but always a rather interesting experience. A hush falls over all which enter, so that the quiet itself vibrates with life. Protected by humans and against humans, it remains a natural utopia of escape for much wildlife. It was early afternoon by the time they reached the reserve, they walked Dog without the need for a leash as he seemed to understand the spirituality which was woven into everything from grains of soil to the tips of leaves. Entering one side and exiting the other, they emerged baptized and reborn.
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