My soul is soaring in the hazy powder-blue skies above this place of God.
I cannot comprehend the magnaminous arid beauty below me, around me.
The beauty of my beloved Africa.
So desperately I want to write down here all the emotions I feel at this time,
but the words that need to be said are elusive,
as the ghostly dust devils dancing to an unheard tune, across the vast plain.
Blood red sunrise gives slow, beautiful birth to a new day.
Eyes bright and bushy-tailed squirrels chatter and scamper on their busy way.
Babblers giggle at me as I stare, awed by the beauty and grace of a shy Kudu cow, poised on the edge of flight into the honeyed khaki grassland below.
The mournful ballad of a dove joins the joyous chorus of a quartet of indigo starlings and becomes to my ears, an orchestra beyond all compare.
Downy feathered fairy seeds - carried on a gentle wind, whirl and twirl and pirouette, like costumed ballerinas.
And so this rugged, dry, beautiful land becomes a theatre of my life.
I want no encore...only to stay, for each new day becomes a celebration of life.

From Zimbabwe Hunter magazine Sept/Oct 1995 issue.
It was written at Sinamatela Camp in the Valley by Sam Bands of Triangle.

This page last modified onMonday, 5 July 1999
This page is maintained by Alastair Honeybun at