Recently this bird flew the nest and migrated south to its homeland. There in the dryer climes of southernmost Africa it nestled in the hot silent grasslands, beneath a clear sky splashed red at dawn and sunset.
When living in a foreign place, going home and coming back again can create a strange confusion as to what is home and what is foreign. Just as I grew to know the face of Bangkok in the fractured reflections of the Chao Praya river, so I saw the African sky drifting down the Orange River and saw my own face there too. Where I had come to recognize the starry twinkle of the city lights blinking in the humid glaze, I now saw again a thousand stars scattered like silver spearheads across the dark African night.
bangkokbird 