The sights and scents of autumn bring back fond memories for editor Francé Beyers as she shares highlights from the Autumn ’24 issue of Stellenbosch Visio.
AFTER THOSE LAID-BACK MONTHS of summer, autumn is now bringing new zest to our lives, with clear and windless days spurring us on to more vigorous activities. If mountain biking doesn’t set your pulse racing (see Ernst Gouws’s spirited story on the upcoming Absa Cape Epic on p. 102), consider tackling the wild in a luxurious off-road camper van (p. 80) or embarking on a thrilling botanical safari at the enchanting Grootbos (p. 94).
It’s also completely fine to indulge in the gentle art of meandering, of simply being outside and surrendering your senses to the seasonal joys – to the heady whiff of fermentation, or the dazzling displays of colour that will soon be visible in orchards and vineyards.
Autumn has a way of appealing to the artist, the poet, and the philosopher inside every one of us. No wonder it’s my favourite time of the year. And nostalgia is seldom far away. Leaves dropping always make me nostalgic for my youth, for when we used to scoop the dry oak leaves into huge piles and dive into them, smelling the earthy, nutty smell on our skins.
An awareness of years gone by is perhaps one of the reasons why Emile Joubert’s feature about the Old Vines (p. 58) resonated so much with me. Those gnarled trunks have seen many seasons come and go. As with vines, so with people. Each year adds a layer of wisdom to our own lives as we weather the storms and send our roots down into deeper and deeper layers of meaning.
Winemakers can wax lyrical about how old vineyards have lived through many a storm and have stayed grounded in tough granite soils. Shirley van Wyk, MD of Terre Paisible, talks about Old Vines with a charming turn of phrase: “Old Vines are like beautiful history books – they carry the stories of all the harvests past.”
En net so is Stellenbosch se Meulstroom ook baie meer as net ’n stroom water; dit is geskiedenis in beweging. Stellenbossers wat gelukkig genoeg is om ’n huis langs die Meulstroom te besit, het aan Bianca du Plessis gewys op watter maniere sensitiewe argitekte met hul ontwerpe eer betoon het aan die geskiedenis en die omgewing (p. 54).
In ’n jaar waarin verkiesings in Suid-Afrika en ook wêreldwyd ons miskien vol vertwyfeling na die mensdom sal laat kyk, is dit goed om heling en diepte te soek by die skoonheid van die natuur.
Een van my gunstelinggedigte sal altyd Van Wyk Louw se Vroegherfs’ bly, met sy beelde van die jaar wat ryp word “in goue akkerblare” wat dan mettertyd so stilweg “in die rookvaal bos en laan” sal val.
Maar die skoonheid van die herfs eindig nie op Stellenbosch nie; ook elders is dit mooi, soos Boerneef dit verwoord in sy gedig oor die rooi van wingerdblare by Hexrivier, en die geel van “herfspamplier by Dwarsrivier op Ceres”:
Slaan rem aan hou jul asem in en kyk en kyk
Lank en eerbiedig soos ’n mens na so ’n herfs moet kyk Laat dit inbrand in jou vir latertyd
Die warm geel en rooi vir latenstyd
Mag hierdie herfs jou siel vul met vreugde en vrede.
Ook vir latenstyd.
