Late night update

It is 2:30 am Tuesday morning here, although for most of you it is still 8:30 Monday evening Apparently my brain has made the time change seamlessly, as this is a time I am typically awake at home as well. After 2 consecutive nights sleeping in smushy airplane seats, six hours of blessed horizontal sleep has felt wonderful, though!

Our first twelve hours here have been so extraordinary that I keep recalling more and more to record here for you. The reality of Africa finally hit, bringing Brooklyn repeatedly to tears. After swims and showers, we met around the campfire circle, nestled just uphill from our cottages between enormous round boulders the size of houses. Jessica made enormous steaks and buttery garlic bread over the fire, and we ate it with sweet mashed pumpkin, green beans South African style, with onions and potatoes, and a cucumber, tomato, onion and feta salad. I don't think starvation will be an issue! We ate and laughed and ate some more, but eventually our full stomachs and long journey caught up to us, and we wandered off to bed.

I have my own room and bath! This turns out to be super, since I often awaken during the night, and can catch up our blog without waking anyone else! My room is large with 2 twin beds, a pair of chairs, and a balcony! Tile floor and a real thatched roof complete the wonderful feel; I must remember to take photos tomorrow! Apparently the thatch has its own ecosystem: James found a large spider in his shower, and Kait found a lovely gecko, sort of transparent tan with black spots, perfect for being camouflaged  against the rocks here.

Apparently we will be seeing lots of animals--on the 35 minute drive from the airport, Hannah spotted an elephant, Kait saw a baboon, everybody saw various antelope, wild boars, and birds, especially red hornbills. There were huge anthills, as tall as a house, cone-shaped, and we learned that the light colored ones have been abandoned, while the darker ones are occupied. We discussed snakes, and although none were spotted, that is likely a good thing since the two most common species here are the cobra and the black mambo, both of which are so venomous that one would never reach medical care in time if bitten. So, no snake charming! Someone spotted a bonobo, and there were countless other animals that we weren't able to identify. We practically melted the pages of Kait's field guide trying to look things up as fast as we spotted them!

We really are out in nature here. I woke and went out onto the balcony a few minutes ago to feel the vastness of the space. At first, all was dark and silent, but soon my senses opened and widened to perceive more of what was there. The sky is sprinkled thickly with stars, but the constellations that keep me company over our barns at home aren't here. I did identify the Southern Cross earlier as we sat around the fire, and Kait used a star identification app to show us more of what was up there. Now, though, I am just marveling at the vastness of the sky and stars. Soon, smooth grey sky separated from sharp, craggy rocks below, and I realized that even in complete darkness I could see outlines of the rocky landscape. Nearer, trees appeared outlined dark against the starry backdrop.

It is so quiet. I feel myself settle softly into the rich, comfortable silence, but then again my senses awaken and I begin to hear. A tiny rustle here, a faint, far-away insect, cricket-like. Then, off to the northwest, a musical call, soft, smooth, almost like that of a mourning dove, but more lyrical. I have no way to know who is calling, but I listen appreciatively. The softest cool breeze stirs my hair, bringing with it faint scents of earth and dry leaves. I think I can smell an animal, but that seems too fanciful.

I can't stand not capturing this, so my bare feet pad softly across the cool tile floor, I pick up the laptop and try to share. This will likely not be my last late night entry; I hope to capture every second, but also want to live in each moment. There is so much here to take in, and although we have access to books, television and internet, somehow Africa was never really real until now. I could see images of it, but now I can feel it, breathe it, be in it. My sense of wonder is overwhelmed!