SPRING, sweet spring!
Come September and I notice the little ones going to school in spring attire. Us oldies go about our business cloaked and scarfed, our breath whisking white plumes into the thin morning air. In Stellenbosch, the branches of the ancient oaks still reach to the sky with bare knuckles, yet the kids are making paper spring blossoms.
I remember the chill of the Spring Day celebrations of my youth in the north-west of the country, seldom warm enough
