Above Langebaan's turquoise lagoon in the West Coast National Park is a hill, and on the hill is a massive granite rock and on the rock is this little stone house.
I say house, but I don't know what it was. It is empty, now. But when I see this building I begin to wonder how I would live there. Water would be an issue. Views would not. There would be fish, down there, in the lagoon. There were flowers that day, in little dry islands of vegetation in the granite.
Ornithogalum, but whattum? And vygies - succulent Mesembryanthemum (probably) - the iridescent carpets of spring.
It is too prominent and too isolated not to have a story. Did it's inhabitant watch for the tall ships, sailing past from disintegrating Europe to the East by way of the Cape of Good Hope, in a long ago century? Part of me still lives in Dan Sleigh's Cape and Europe and Mauritius of the late 17th century - Eilande, or Islands. The book, I mean. It's not that old. Was it built by zealous birders. A farmer? A shepherd? Not much grazing, unless in green winter and spring.