French doors

And this is actually the story I wrote while in Kenya, inspired by the location mentioned in my previous blog…
French doors

Sofi woke up, she was amazed at the sounds she heard. There was a chorus of birds that she didn’t recognize. Sounds she never heard, but loved immediately. Slipping from under her mosquito net, opening her french doors she was met by a view you only see in tourist brochures. A plane with African bush and shrubs stretching out for miles. A solemn tree in the distance leaning to the side, following the direction of the wind. Here she was in the middle of Africa, breathing in the air in slow sips, like a hot cup of tea. Careful and with attention, enjoying the flow of oxygen into her body. She wondered if every human being felt like they were coming home to this continent? The origin of species must be written in the genes. Some biologist wondered for ages why certain animals return to their breeding grounds like clockwork. Sofi knew why.

A sudden rumble got her attention, dust springing up, her heart jumped, buffaloes clashing with each other. A small surge of adrenaline reached her eyes, wide open trying to see what was happening at least a mile from where she was standing. Then to her left, unbelievable, the rhythm of a giraffe. No other animal moved with such grace. It disappeared soon, too soon, behind a bush. An animal that looked so incredibly tall up close could vanish into thin air with such ease. It felt like a magical trick.

The swimming pool was desolate. The cool water felt refreshing when she stepped in. A quick dive and her whole body was surrounded by the water. Coming up her eyes met with a monkey. Running alongside the pool jumping quickly into the nearest tree. The tree shook while the monkey ruffled through it. Then it was gone. The tree moving slowly again to the wind’s direction. Another smile on Sofi’s face. She couldn’t believe how life seemed to vibrate out of every corner here.

Even the rocks came alive. The small rodents with their pointy ears were bathing in the sun light. She had no clue what they were called and nobody seemed to be able to tell her. They were just there. When she moved closer however they disappeared as quickly as possible under the rock. The lizards were much more daring. They moved around in all colours of the rainbow. Only fleeing her feet while she walked along the path.

The warthog in the garden was big. He just grazed, getting closer to the ground on his front knees. Sometimes words are just too suitable to describe an animal, ugliness just befell this two-toed creature. Symmetry is key for a human to find something or someone beautiful. Maybe it was the crooked nose that puts them off, Sofi pondered, maybe it was the colour, but at least a running warthog was a beautiful sight.

Then all of a sudden another rumble, much louder, constant and coming closer fast. This was a sound Sofi knew, one that had brought her to the very place she admired so much. Idyllic circumstances needed something to spoil it, to really appreciate it. An airplane definitely would do the trick. It passed by, towards the airport just a few miles to the east. She closed the French doors, the plane faded. All that was left were the zooming crickets. Tomorrow she would start with the birds again.

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