“Was it all a dream?” //
Dreams are only any good if they’re near-impossible. Envisioning yourself in a time, a place, a moment. They act as illustrations of your deepest wants and desires; without even knowing, they’re the book that your soul is writing about you.
On this particular February evening, I’d been out in the field all day with little success — I called it and started heading back to my tent.
While navigating flooded tracks and avoiding flipping my 4x4, the sun slipped beneath a huge bank of storm clouds. The savannah blazed in an inferno of golden light.
All of a sudden electricity charged the air, with an eerie static-like noise filling the atmosphere. The dark clouds bubbled and released a torrent of rain with an uncontrollable rage.
As the shimmering light and downpour combined, diamonds filled the sky of the Serengeti…. remember the dreams?
Out of thin air, a cheetah. She sprinted across the plains seeking shelter, paying no attention to my presence.
Then, in some spectacular twist of fate, a clan of hyenas started laughing manically around 100m directly behind me. The cheetah stopped, looked toward my direction to spot them, giving me 2 seconds of eye contact.
Her cubs followed and they found shelter beneath an acacia tree. I sat in my open vehicle, soaked to the bone, sobbing uncontrollably. I’d never felt closer to Mother Nature. From that moment on I’ve dedicated my life to using my lens as a voice for the voiceless.
// A Magical Shower, my Magical Shower. Was it all a dream?
