Mother!
Following the milk, Jujuy
“Congratulations!!!congratulations on the pregnancy. How many months are you?”
Gosh the dangers of mistranslation. I thought I was signing off my message to Silvia with a hug. Con un embrazo. But no, I should have said un abrazo. This is how rumours begin. However, I was flattered that she considered it a possibility for me, and a joy… (and delighted that her father’s op went well for the removal of ‘waterfalls’ from his eyes).
I am not with child but there’s certain pregnancy in the air, don’t you think? In spite of political blindness and folly , in spite of our collective dimness and selfishness, Spring is irrepressible …
‘What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being…’
… and each morning, each moment, we have the chance to choose again, to make our corner a little greener, to write the stories in us, to create, to say yes, to love … to be pregnant with our own life — with our life.
Could be Canterbury? We were heading a little left of here, towards the marvellous rock faces of Mt Fitzroy. Or is it Fitz Roy?
On to the Perito Moreno Glacier. Mesmerising, except that staring eyes eventually were stabbed by needles of snow.
3000 miles to the north it’s warm in Jujuy. I swam amongst demented Alsations, and Jorge cooked our dinner on the asado. Estoy muy feliz.