When I think of it now, the first thing I thought of when I saw the spider on the footpath down, I was not being a good guy. It’s not of good character to be jealous of other things, but damn this Orb spider has the best view in the whole of Cape Town I reckon. It waits on its golden web while the blue water below comes in high then leaves away slow – day in, starry night out.
The spiders’ vantage point from within the fynbos inspires me to go look for my own unique views. Within minutes of arriving at this hidden gem, I find myself stuck inside the crisp blue and green walls that the ocean throws onto the sand. Just like the spider, I start spinning a web around me, made up of words and euphoric interjections. I don’t, however, trap insects – I trap moments.
The rustic kitchen is warm at the heart of the house while the high ceiling keeps conversations from escaping. The paraffin lamps glow low, casting shadows that dance with the nostalgia that fills the room. Many moments have been made here in this kitchen. I can just feel it. It is the weathered red and white window frame above the kitchen sink and the cooking pot hanging over the fire. It is the red wine. It is the dogs milling about between our feet and the smell of thyme simmering with the lamb. It is sleeping outside and proper coffee in the morning. It is how it is supposed to be.
With the full moon comes high water and it takes away footsteps made in sand. The sea takes it and washes it up later where you pick them up and continue making memories. I get the feeling that this house does the same. You fetch the potjie from where you hung it when you were there last and then light a new fire with the old wood you cut down when you were there in the past.
On the way up I notice that the spider has neither moved nor trapped a meal. It has spun such a perfect web with a perfect view that I am starting to wonder if maybe it’s just chilling there to make memories.