We FLOAT along the river, on BOARD with tourists, guides, locals. A friendly sort of CHAOS thrives in this environment, quick friendship happen, groups join and divide across the long days down the Nile.
We talk of weird animals: OKAPI, armadillos, giraffes. We compare notes on travels into deserts and jungles, exotic cities and remote villages. Experiences are wildly varied: some have harvested bat GUANO as part of a scientific expedition that accepted tourists as volunteers, others talk of applying to do menial labor or serving as a cook at a research facility in Antarctica. It’s a happy buzz, one I am grateful to share in, a welcome respite from the drudgery of every day life.

Georg’ann

Walking the Point Lobos trail, above the sea, we find SPACE.
Space to watch the waves crash and the birds soar.
Space to inhale the salty pine air.
We sit, talking for hours.
Lulled by the water’s shifting rhythms
and the delight of our sisterhood,
removed from the DRAIN
of the family toxins.
On the huge rock cliffs no space is BLANK,
covered with white GUANO
as if the gulls were icing the cliffs.

Heather