A poem only because kruger is otherwise ineffable
Profound silences abide in the savannah
Even as robin, dove, and whistling lark sing
their notes rise—an allegro to the light—
While dawn spills a golden gown on the plain.
There is no cruelty here—only truth,
The buffalo combs its back on the brush
Impalas graze wary of movement and sound
A leopard stares into the sun with its lifeless prey
Kruger is South Africa’s gift to the world
her voices many but in jarring rhythm
her wilderness a mirror for man’s forgotten soul
Both bear savagery and awe in every breath
Vidante 
Sunrise is always magical! In my book I mention how we almost wordhiped the sun After waiting in the dark to kill or be killed. Think Trnnispn wrote the Old Sun God will rise snd throw down the cross. Per haps that is why I Walk to Finisterre After walking the Camono
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