Athol Fugard is 90: A portrait of the artist as a man who jumped at opportunities
“The playwright sits on the stoep and watches the Cape robins and company flock into the back garden as objects around him in the cold dawn claim their shapes back from the night. The feathered visitors know when his wife has refilled the bird feeders, all cleverly designed to deny grey squirrels access. Having had their fill, the diners start the morning’s grooming and noisy chattering.”
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