Autumn is here. I can smell the sudden change, the air is musky and it feels damp in my bones. Columns of falling leaves, ripped at the edges, are being whipped across the wet market square like reckless whirling dervishes. Winter is only a harsh breath away. Darkness begins to fall quickly now and the imposing street lamps blink awake at a time when only a few weeks ago we were still feeling the touch of the summer sun on our skin.
For me it's the drop in temperature that signals a natural migration to somewhere else. Migrating birds flock south, drawn by the heat of the balmy sun, they catch gentle thermals and glide in unison towards a dreamy horizon. And there are those migrating birds on the reverse wing, tripping into the brittle cold climate of northern Europe and Russia - where I imagine them wearing faux fur hats and pecking at the vodka bottle inside a brawling bar.
Like anxious birds we're feeling the climatic pull south. We're becoming restless; restless and keen for change. The date of our departure is fast approaching, we fly on the 10th November 2014. My heart will crunch yet repair, crunch yet repair at having to leave those we love behind again; family and friends who have unselfishly given us so much during the unpredictable months before and after India's arrival.
It's easy to romanticize, but there's a small part of me that feels an inner peace at being able to watch my children unfurl and grow within the warm arms of mama Africa - especially when the temperatures plunge in the northern hemisphere.
So look up! That's us flying nosily above you on the thermals....
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