The sun slowly sinks beneath the horizon, painting the clouds a mixture of yellows and blues, which turns to orange as the last rays disappear. The crickets start their song one by one, until their voices mingle into a single screech. One stops for breath, and another takes it's place immediately, as if on some unspoken cue. Here and there a frog's voice bubbles. The wind softly stirs the grass.
I am surrounded by Africa.
- Addo 28 Des 2002