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kittiwakeThe apprentice, standing beside her, suddenly tugged excitedly at the sleeve of her dress. ‘Look, Mma Ramotswe! Look!’
She looked in the direction in which he was pointing and immediately saw what he had seen. Flying ants. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the air was filling with flying ants, rising up from their secret burrows in the rain-softened ground, gaining altitude on beating wings, dipping down again. It was a familiar sight following the rains, one of those sights that took one back to childhood no matter what age one was, and brought to mind memories of chasing these ants, grabbing them from the air, and then eating them, for their peanut-butter taste and crunchiness.
‘Go and catch some,’ she said to the apprentice.
He handed her the spanner he was holding and rushed out in the last few drops of rain to snatch at the termites, a boy again. He caught some easily, and de-winged them before stuffing them into his mouth. Above him there were other, hungrier dangers for the ants; a flock of swifts, materialising from nowhere, had swept in and were dipping and swooping over their aerial feast. The apprentice looked up at the birds and watched them, and smiled; and she smiled back. What does it matter, she thought, if businesses are left unattended, if people are not always as we want them to be; we need the time just to be human, to enjoy something like this: a boy chasing ants, a dry land drinking at last, birds in the sky, a rainbow.
I enjoyed the ninth No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency novel, which was mainly about family relationships. I love the descriptions of Botswana and its people, and my absolutely favourite thing is how the characters say 'late' instead of 'dead'. Mme Makutsi's uncle's decision about how many cows to ask for her dowry was amusing too!
She looked in the direction in which he was pointing and immediately saw what he had seen. Flying ants. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the air was filling with flying ants, rising up from their secret burrows in the rain-softened ground, gaining altitude on beating wings, dipping down again. It was a familiar sight following the rains, one of those sights that took one back to childhood no matter what age one was, and brought to mind memories of chasing these ants, grabbing them from the air, and then eating them, for their peanut-butter taste and crunchiness.
‘Go and catch some,’ she said to the apprentice.
He handed her the spanner he was holding and rushed out in the last few drops of rain to snatch at the termites, a boy again. He caught some easily, and de-winged them before stuffing them into his mouth. Above him there were other, hungrier dangers for the ants; a flock of swifts, materialising from nowhere, had swept in and were dipping and swooping over their aerial feast. The apprentice looked up at the birds and watched them, and smiled; and she smiled back. What does it matter, she thought, if businesses are left unattended, if people are not always as we want them to be; we need the time just to be human, to enjoy something like this: a boy chasing ants, a dry land drinking at last, birds in the sky, a rainbow.
I enjoyed the ninth No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency novel, which was mainly about family relationships. I love the descriptions of Botswana and its people, and my absolutely favourite thing is how the characters say 'late' instead of 'dead'. Mme Makutsi's uncle's decision about how many cows to ask for her dowry was amusing too!
