Ungrateful

Pic: Nonqaba waka Msimang.

The trio I saw walking on the footpath above the river one morning, reminded me how ungrateful I am. They were blind.

It was a brilliant sunny day with trees in their lime green finery and the river laughing at them from below.

‘Time is running out fall leaves. You’ll do exactly that, fall from grace.’ said the envious river, that shuffles in the same spot.

Ungrateful because I didn't know how the three walkers realized it was a beautiful day, how they got dressed, took their white sticks with little balls, left home and came to the open gym.

The river path and the whole park is like an exercise center with walkers, joggers, rude cyclists, parents with strollers and people walking dogs.

Ungrateful, that’s what I am. This feeling intensified when I saw the trio walking down the stairs from the eating area to the river bank. How do they do that? Even seasoned runners look down when they run up and down those stairs.

I’m sure the three walkers enjoyed another gift of a fresh morning, but they left me stale in my selfishness and ingratitude.

I have my sight, hearing and legs, but I’m forever complaining about unfulfilled dreams. Blind people manage their situation and perhaps dream about seeing just how lime, red, pink or brown, fall leaves are.

Nonqaba waka Msimang

Executive Blogger