We were wrapping up an afternoon safari in Botswana. The air was fresh and cool. It was that fleeting moment when sun is done setting and night is just about to make an entrance. We came upon a shallow pond. As we began to cross it; I lazily took a look back. The background was far better than the foreground-
‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.
And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head
-Emily Bronte
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