It is winter here, and mornings are chilled. We cuddled in the Penthouse (roof top tent), reading aloud 'Cry of the Kalahari'. Evenings we seek out oryx, honey badger and bat eared fox, then sprawl to soak the dying sun, harmonizing with the jackal cries.
|Home.... Here be lions.|
|Honey Badger feast|
|Jackal ~ whose cries fill the evening light|