Mostly forsaken by humans, but not god-forsaken; and the fairies are still here, I suspect, and maybe the spirits of long, long dead animals. I’m not quite into the deep bush yet, but it’s at least a day’s drive from the nearest human presence, along a track that is rarely used. If I had to walk back it would take several days, but that would be irrelevant – I wouldn’t survive on the water I’d be able to carry with me. The inevitable outcome would be falling prey to predators, either as quarry or as carrion.
But, it is at a point where the expedition starts to become really fulfilling to me. Being here and alone is to be exposed to impressions that totally consume the senses; and to forces that, should they be unleashed, would be immensely more powerful than I could hope to survive.
If something goes wrong – the vehicle is damaged or breaks down and I can’t fix it, or I get stuck and can’t get out, or I get lost, or any of many possible mishaps happen, the consequences could be fatal. All that stands between me and calamity are my senses and my wits and my ability to humbly apply them – that, and good luck.
I took this pic with the vehicle and the track in the foreground on purpose – the only tangible connections to what is popularly regarded as civilisation. Sometimes the vastness of earth and sky just seems overwhelming. Africa bared consumes one. It overwhelms with its beauty and its majesty and its many, many dimensions of cruelty and kindness. But it remains like this infinite stretch of earth and sky – impersonal, brutal, powerful and unpredictable, rolling on in ancient rhythms that circle back seamlessly into each other; day flowing into night, seasons from one to the other and life into death, oblivious of what we call Time. Here one understands that Time means nothing. It is a mere human construct. Reality is an endless and repetitive ebb and flow in which we and our silly shenanigans mean absolutely nothing…