A family of goats wander the brush across the sandy lane, favoring a large outcropping of palms many years from attaining the height necessary to provide shade.
A kilometer at speed, in deep sand, as the time slips past. According to my mobile, I'm late. West,
down and across the lane through another livestock gate, this one narrow – to
prohibit the entry of undesirable livestock… and elephants?! The turtle shell of my backpack acting as a wedge as I whip through.
Just a bit farther, the path turns and cuts diagonally through
the field to the northwest, and I barrel into my shadow as I pick up the pace. I tune into the sounds of the morning
as I pass a giant flowering tree with purple blossoms – the tree houses a hive of wasps that hums from within.
Finally at the soccer field, the edge of village proper comes into view. A steady stream of
learners make their way into the school yard. Winded from exertion I arrive, to the amusement of my follow teachers.
A 6:45am daily meeting is a cruel thing. I will never, in any workplace, love the morning greetings game, but never so little than at 6:45am. Morning assembly, then a retreat to the library, to figure out where to begin.