Denied the happiness of solitude in nature

The last post was written in the haze of a hangover and in a daze of too much sun after lying in the Grahamstown Botanical Gardens for half the day. I had decided, after walking around without an aim, to do something constructive and so packed my dorky rucksack full of fruit, a blanket, books, pen, paper and camera and decided to explore the Botanical Gardens instead of climbing back into my bed of depression. I had only previously explored the easier parts of the garden but this time decided to walk off that first year spread and hangover by jogging along the paths that lead near to the monument. Naturally after two seconds the jogging slowed to a power walk, which after another two seconds slowed to a crawl, which eventually led to a sit-down where my breath was further taken away by the beauty of Grahamstown and beyond. I was as usual ashamed at the fact that I have brushed off Grahamstown as a hole, void of any beauty and instant pleasures. But there it was, staring me brightly in the face, all the beauty a girl like me could ask for. This natural high saw me skipping down the hill taking photographs of flowers, trees and creeping along the river bank photographing weaver birds building nests. I truly felt like I was in my element and was so relieved to find a place that I can escape to when the feelings of living in a void return.

At midday I danced my way back to my residence to tell my friends of the wonderful excursion only to be reprimanded for going into the botanical gardens alone when I have been told countless times of the dangers of wandering in such a place. My giddy mood was replaced by anger. How has crime managed to dominate every aspect of my life in such a big way? I cannot even explore nature, which I prefer to do in solitude, without having to worry about rape and pillage! My mother than emailed to express her disbelief at my teenager sisters need to party all night even though there are so any parents who are part of Griefshare for losing their children in car accidents and party related tragedies. I agreed with her but with great resistance because why should we stop experiencing life, both the good and the bad, just because of someone else’s tragic story? Or am I just being a naïve, selfish individual who has never had my feelings stretched further than a few crocodile tears?