June in Elysium is a sacred season.
In the Western Cape, the year begins with its own brilliance during the first three months of the year. In Pretoria, spring’s promise arrives with September, October, and November, culminating in the Jacaranda trees in bloom. But here, on the Mid-East coast of South Africa—the KZN South Coast—our winter is something else entirely. Here the entire system participates in the celebration.
It’s one of the finest winters in the world.
Mornings rarely dip below 10°C, while days stretch wide and golden at a gentle 23°C. The ocean lies mostly calm, though it sometimes roars with winter surf, bringing in powerful swells that dance between two and three metres.
And then, there’s the miracle of the Sardine Run—a divine procession.
June summons them in silver streams, drawing birds, dolphins, game fish, and even whales in a jubilant feast of life.
This morning, on our walk to Ifafa, we passed only four other souls. Two solitary fishermen—one clad head to toe in camouflage, his rod to match; another simply basking in the sun’s grace. And then, my companions in spirit: Bloemdozi, a local carpenter and part-time bartender at the Laughing Forest; myself, the Laughing Forest’s humble garden boy and part-time philosopher; and Theuns, our town’s monk-in-the-making—an eligible bachelor wrapped in quiet wisdom.
Elysium is no ordinary place.
It has no shops, no bottle stores, no petrol stations.
But what it offers is breath itself—a stillness that moves, a heartbeat that syncs with your own if you take the time to stop and listen.
Come.
Visit us here at the Laughing Forest.
Let the sea and sky restore you.
Let Elysium remind you what it means to truly live.
