Not That One
On our first night, an ostrich truck got stuck against a tree. The answer seemed obvious: work around it. Months later, the answer was no longer so simple.
Notes
Conversations
When Momentum Becomes the Governor
Under relentless pressure, continuing can begin to feel inevitable. An ancient story reveals how interruption, shared responsibility and passing of the burden creates enough breathing space for judgement to return.
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Quiet Archive
No Lift in the Day
Some mornings carry a weight that has nothing to do with the weather. Looking out across the farm, even the aeroplane overhead seemed to move more slowly, and I found myself wondering whether the heaviness belonged to the day or to me.
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Notes
The Number of Zeros
In 2013, while walking across the farm and trying to work out the finances, I realised I needed another thousand rand—not ten. The pressure remained, but the solution had become infinitely easier.
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Conversations
The Hardest Moment Comes After Success
Success creates a different test from failure. Once capability has proved itself, new possibilities appear and judgment must decide what courage alone cannot: what should be done, and when enough has already been reached.
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Quiet Archive
The Wind I Was Making
A winter walk, a still morning, and the quiet discovery that the wind I thought I was walking through was simply the from my own movement.
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Conversations Reading Journey
The Price of a Life
Sometimes the hardest decisions aren’t about knowing what to do. They’re about deciding what we’re no longer willing to exchange our lives for. A conversation with Book Nine of the Iliad about human excellence, freedom, and what a life is ultimately for.
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Conversations Reading Journey
The Place of Human Excellence
Prompted by Book VIII of the Iliad, this Conversations essay asks where human excellence reaches its limits—and whether we have come to expect too much of it.
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Notes
Is that a sheep… in the house?
Before we owned the farm, we were already living pieces of the life we imagined: orphan lambs in the lounge, dogs who accepted everyone, and a tiny piglet who thought the bacon belonged to her.
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Quiet Archive
They Called Her Dawn
After weeks of storms and power cuts, the morning finally exhaled. Standing outside before dawn, I understood why Homer imagined Dawn with rosy fingers and a saffron robe—not to explain the world, but to describe what it feels like to live inside it.
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