Last day in Africa

I love to listen to the birds’ song in all it’s variation and melody, the fluttering palm leaves. I close my eyes and gently sway to the rhythm of life. The lush green rainforest falls away from me down the hill and up again on the other side, layers of hills until the green is dimmed and lost in the moving misty cloudcover beyond. 

The feel of cool wind on my face, softly twirling my hair; the smell of the rainforest and fragrance of wet dirt fill my awareness to completeness.

I breathe in deep and slow, pole pole my Swahili rafikis tell me, taking in my last day in Africa.

At the market, I am surprised to realize I have my whistle back. In the past, I have been known to whistle absentmindedly when my soul is particularly at rest and grateful. 

I hadn’t noticed it until today but I haven’t been whistling, maybe since January. Somehow this trip has unlocked my tight hold allowing my inner joy to peek out and whistle.

It has been a beautiful, stretching time this week and now this wondrous gift.

I am blessed indeed.

TanzaniaAnne

November, 2021