I dreamed of Africa.
Having lived in a place where you woke up every morning to gentle sound of bells on the necks of sheep and looking out your window to see the French Alps, you wonder what could be more beautiful. This is a question that people have asked my wife and I. It is a question we ask ourselves. What is the most beautiful place you've ever been too?
It is a difficult question to answer for we have been blessed to see many magnificent places. It may be the shear magnitude of a mountain, or the barrenness of a sweeping moor. We've walked along the rugged coast of the Irish Sea and along the quiet waterfront of an North Sea inlet at a time when there was 20 hours of daylight. We've walked the dusty roads of Uganda and the sidewalks of the Champs Elysees. This does not account for the many spectacular places we've seen right here in our country and our state.
But still, the question remains. What is the most beautiful place you've ever been too? My wife will tell you Switzerland. I would answer, Zimbabwe.
When we arrived in Harare, it was like other African cities I had been to. But once you leave the city, then it becomes the place that dreams are made of; my dreams at least. I had dreamed of what Africa would be and one day, while on a safari east of Harare, I saw it. I saw a landscape that said, "I am Africa."
Yes, I once dreamed of Africa. Now, I simply dream of Africa. I dream of time that I may get to return to Zimbabwe. To ride in the back of a truck out onto the savannah and witness the variety of wildlife found there. To walk through the grass and get nearly get close enough to a giraffe to touch it.To ride on the back of an elephant again and to sip tea in the shade of a koppie. These are things I dream of.
I dream of Africa.