- To
Celebrating our 35th anniversary of meeting in 1991. It was a great day!Our 35th anniversary of meeting was indeed a special day. Then again, every day we spend together feels special in its own quiet, steady way. Perhaps it is the quality of our lives, constantly moving yet somehow grounded, or perhaps it is simply the comfort that comes from knowing one another so well after all these years. Whatever the reason, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t recognize how fortunate we are to be sharing this journey.
As we sit here now on the veranda, cherishing what can only be described as a perfect sunny day, the bush seems to put on a show just for us. Before our eyes, five species wander in and out of view as if they have all agreed to gather at once. A kudu moves gracefully through the trees, its long horns catching the light. Not far behind, our friend Hal, the wildebeest lingers, his heavy steps stirring the dust. A shy duiker appears briefly, pausing just long enough to remind us how much we might have missed if we had looked away. Several bushbucks stand alert in the distance, while a warthog ambles along with its usual determined stride.
What could be more magical than this, especially on a day like today?
Moments like these settle deeply within us. They remind us of why we chose this lifestyle, why we continue to embrace the unknown, and why we remain so grateful for each experience, no matter how big or small. It would be easy to focus on the inconveniences that come along with living this way, and yes, there are always a few. But more often than not, those minor annoyances become part of the story, something we learn to work around or accept.
Take the insects, for example. As the weather warms, they arrive in numbers that are hard to ignore. With no screens on the veranda doors, which we keep open day and night while we are outside, they come and go as they please. We have learned to adjust. The bedroom door stays closed at all times, and the windows are rarely opened, not only because of the insects but because of the ever-present risk of baboons and monkeys finding their way inside and leaving chaos behind.
In the warmer months, repellent becomes part of our daily routine. We apply it throughout the day and again before bed, a simple act that offers some comfort. Each evening, while we sit outdoors enjoying dinner, Tom sprays the bedroom, so the time we spend outside doubles as time for the fumes to dissipate. It is not a perfect solution, but it works for us.
There is always a balance to be found. On the one hand, there is concern about chemical exposure; on the other, the very real risks that come with mosquito bites and sleepless nights filled with the constant buzzing of insects. It becomes a matter of weighing one against the other, of deciding what allows us the most peace of mind.
And really, isn’t life itself a balancing act?
We are constantly adjusting, shifting our priorities between work and play, relationships and independence, health and indulgence, planning and spontaneity. Each choice we make contributes to the overall picture of our lives, shaping not only what we do but how we feel about it all. Happiness may come and go in fleeting moments, but contentment, that deeper sense of satisfaction, feels far more attainable when we learn to manage that balance.
As we reflect on these years together, and on this day in particular, it becomes clear that contentment has been one of our greatest achievements. Not because everything has been perfect, but because we have learned to appreciate what is right in front of us, even when it requires a bit of compromise.
And that, in the end, is what defines the quality of our lives.
May you all find your own version of that balance, and with it, the kind of contentment that carries you gently through each day.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, June 29, 2016:
