another story...

We are watching the clocks... guessing what Gramma & Grampa are up to right now. I think they are waking up in their tent, getting ready for a game drive. Eric pipes up that he hopes the hyenas haven't gotten them. Cam laughs and says the hyenas are too busy removing the upholstery from the camp chairs. I love how he remembers...

Each morning on the Serengeti, we would emerge from tents and find evidence that the hyenas had been exploring camp in the night. Wash bins turned over, tell-tale foot prints... missing seat cushions and chair backs. Camden loved sitting in the hyena chair... just because he is Cam.

I loved camping in Africa. We fell asleep to the sounds of the Serengeti, tucked into our beds... and awoke to a shout of Jambo, cold air, and a spectacular sunrise. The days were full of adventure, and we returned weary and happy. And one afternoon...

Cam woke me from a nap, and I just slipped into my shoes, worried that taking the time to fasten them would mean a lost chance. I was afraid I would miss my chance to get kind of close... and I was afraid to get too close. But the little bit of fear that rippled through me was the I'm alive kind... the kind that says one more step and then maybe one more. The giraffe travelled the camp and I couldn't help but I follow, peeking through the tents, stalking with my camera. I was mezmerized. Long legs unfolding, neck stretching and the sounds of acacia being chomped away. 

In Africa, I was braver than I have ever been... stretching myself and my heart. And even still, I grow.