I’m in namibia.
I arrived this morning at sunrise, the journey south from north africa.
ethiopia was thunderstorms and woodsmoke heavy on the wind, sweet coffee, rain spattering the red earth on long roads that beckon to take me home.
tonight I’m in a bed for the first time in days. i’ve had 6 hours of sleep since friday. i’ve been through five countries, more time zones than i can count, all to make it back to the southern hemisphere.
i remember the first time i was in south africa, i was standing in a clearing in the drakensberg pine forest, when audria told me that one never forgets where they see the southern cross for the first time. she pointed to the constellation above us.
tonight as i cooked dinner, listening to the quiet conversations of travelers around me, i saw it again in a clearing through a flowering layer of ivy above me. i thought, i guess there are some things we don’t forget.
i notice the shift in seasons as i cross the equator. i notice, especially, the rainy season. how the downpours allow the opportunity for the land to flourish again. flourish as it’s supposed to.