Memories of Africa

Another lovely warm day here. This morning - during my 'ablutions'  a cool breeze was coming in through the open window in the bathroom - and I was taken  back to Africa.
It's true. Once you have lived in Africa it becomes a part of you.
I asked my husband if he had noticed it and he said he had. We both left Africa permanently over 40 years ago and yet it has never left us.
Every time I  return there I seek the coolness of the bush in the morning to listen to the sounds of Africa waking. At such times one can feel the depth of Africa - the wilderness - the wildness - the freshness -the rawness of life - and a great feeling of expectation overwhelms you. It is as though you are pausing on the very brink of some great adventure and a time before this great continent's peace was undisturbed.
On one visit, when we were in the foothills beneath Sani Pass and Lesotho, I even went so far as waking my husband at the almost unheard of time for us of half past four in the morning  just to enjoy  the morning peace together, while we watched the sun rise over the Drakensburg escarpment, and brought a pink blush to last of the snow on the  topmost peaks.

I love living here in my native country, England, and could not live anywhere else but . . .