Over Africa

Flying low from Addis Ababa to Kilimangaro, the ground morphs and meanders through a seeming infinity of hues. Not being able to reach out and touch the sky, you at least feel compelled to applaud the clouds. I know nothing of that deep, ageless African soil, I´m just a stranger to it. It will greet me briefly and forget me just as quickly. I have come bearing no gifts, but I do have some offerings to make. For a moment we will be a part of each others stories. But for now I am greeted by the limitless horizon, it is asking me to journey to it.


Commenting is closed for this article.