Deep in the wilds of Africa we found our honeymoon chalet. Built over the riverine bush we would lie in bed at night and listen to the animal cries, feeling so small and so human in this world of other kings. When the sun was high on those lazy afternoons we’d hide out on the porch watching elephants herd by while we wrote in journals, sketched in notebooks, and read our novels. The romance of the mosquito net like a wedding veil fills my memory of this space in a soft glow of white light. Showers outside on the porch under monkeys swinging by and an endless view of the African vista felt so free and so naturally beautiful. Nights in long baths with old jazz playing its heartfelt tune take me back to this dreamy place, this homey place so rich in comfort so far from home.
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