- this is a tale of striking out alone - learning to dance with fear, to march barefoot and bold, and to trade comfort for wild and brutal dreaming and living. It's about wishing and hoping, longing and trying, and whatever I choose to write about in between. It's about social justice and the struggle between marveling at the beauty of life and opening my eyes to hell.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
.Zakouma#2
The vast flat scrubby expanse of Zakouma is flooded during the rainy
season. Scraggly trees wind their way up through lakes of mud and
elephant tracks curve giant bendy pathways through the marshlands - each
footprint a tiny reflecting lake.
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