It’s women’s day. I’m in the office for a couple of precious quiet hours this morning. The Avos are gone for today, and the place is magically silent. I can hear the birds outside, and can see the ambitious blossoms on the almond tree in full out spring-splendour! The Namaqualand daisies I planted in some of the ‘empty’ spots in the garden are celebrating yellows, oranges and whites of the promise of spring.

I was looking through the last few blog posts as I often do - drinking my coffee and waiting for my PC to boot up properly- and I was struck by the tone of our site over the past month. On the one hand, we are a company intoxicated by the fruits of our own labour: the icy fear of a long, lean winter for us is long forgotten, the toil of spring is just past as we prepared our lands for the growing that was to come, and now, the ripening of summer sun in our Avo space has revealed our garden rich with blossoming opportunities and fulfilling relationships with clients starting to fruit as a reward for a job well done. We have never had so much work at one time, and are thrilling in how it feels to be a (somewhat exhausted, but happy) high-performing team.

But we are also a company that has needed to stop, reflect and hold some precious Avos who have walked through that season when the parent passes on, and the child becomes head of the family. Its the rite of passage that is deep and dark, but also an important part of ‘becoming’. As the circle of seasons and life takes its course, we stand near our friends, and let them know we are there, walking next to them through their own seasons. Elaine, Tshepo, Jill - we are still with you as you come to terms with this new season in your lives. The Avo machine churns on, but your preciousness is held by us all, through it all!