28th November 2013

First, apologies to those nice people who drove round and round the Clarens Square looking for the village’s first traffic light, as reported in last week’s Clarens News. However, your frustration at not finding it would have been resolved by reading all the way to the bottom of my column: It is in fact operating quite effectively in the Clarens Brewery, literally lighting up the lives of many happy imbibers. So park your car and pop in for the safest drink in the country. Provided the light is green, of course!
Last week I promised birds. Lots of birds. Well, I’m embarrassed to say that I have failed in my mission to find new and exciting species to report, notwithstanding a clutch of White Storks busily turning the soil outside Bethlehem. Winter visitors from Europe, these creatures are more charismatic than most Scandinavian tourists and have a particular fondness for small tractor drivers. If you happen upon an empty pair of Wellington boots beside an idling tractor, you know what happened. A Crested Barbet (or two) is currently patrolling my garden and a pirouette of Mouse Birds are standing guard over my fledgling grapes, waiting for the moment they fill with sweet juices. Not much more to report, however, and I haven’t seen a Black Eagle since the old King died. Ah well, maybe next week.
Lots of reaction to the news of a Gallery Association Winter School next year: Ladies from a retirement home in Fouriesburg have volunteered to pose nude for the life drawing class and the sale of easels in Bethlehem has skyrocketed. With dates yet to be announced, enquiries about accommodation have started streaming in. Watch this space. Again.
Finally, and a little sadly perhaps, our lady Kaalvoet has vanished once more. Possibly frustrated by her unrequited love for the man of her dreams, she has decamped to pastures fresh. Size 19 footprints have been spotted along the Ash River and there is speculation that she might have ambitions to give the Loch Ness Monster a run for his/her money. What an adventure that would be! Just imagine a hairy three-metre creature emerging from the white waters of our favourite rafting destination, dripping trout and frogs, to the sheer terror of boatloads of German accountants. No time to take a pic, of course, and she will simply vanish into the depths again, a smug grin lighting her craggy brow. Just think, if she really likes it, she could head downstream to the Vaal Dam and scare the crap out of whole flotillas of Gautengers. And why stop there? There are oceans to be had either side of our New Republic, and some seriously large ships to upset. And to think it all began in our little village…………
The Twitcher