Kempton Patk, South Africa

The pinken clouds at the final setting of sunset’s edge, on Brazil’s edge, ends my days as I head out of the America’s and into the enlightened sunrise on Africa’s edge.

I journeyed this way twice in the last 4 years, there seems to be no ends, but only beginnings to these journeys.

As I fly further into Africa with the sun beneath my wings, drylands of rippling ridges like ocean waves of sand, with islands of lakes appear, in the morning’s misty muddle. Ridges appear as the rivers run through them.

Agriculture and mining have made their mark upon the lands below, as I land on the lakes edge, my plane lands as another takes off. The sign says “Out of Africa” but I find myself, once again, in Africa.

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