Morning at Kubu Island, Botswana: The Hand Of Nature.

Rocks, foliage, bare trees take the early light.

 I lie propped up on my elbow, watching the sunlight as it furtively sneaks through the cracks between the drapes and slowly creeps down the wall highlighting each imperfection in shadowed relief. Moving on ever nearer to her sleeping body, golden light creeps across her pillow, laying its gentle touch upon her. Slowly, softly, fingers of light delicately but deliberately advancing, stroking her hair, silkily feeling their way down her exposed neck, playing lightly upon her shoulders, then rising up on rounded contours of breasts... the soft down on her naked arms glowing as the light shines across her skin.

Perfection.

 I look... not moving, not wishing to waken my sleeping lover. This delicious moment is for me to enjoy, savour and feast my senses upon. Form... texture... gentle curves... shadows... tranquility: the moving light accentuates these, leading my eyes with it.

 She sleeps on, unaware.



  I awake with a start! That Italian snoring in the over-cab tent next to me! Bum! The moment lost. Gone so quickly.

 What was I dreaming of? Oh yeah... light creeping across all those curves and contours...forms and textures on sensual display just for me. Oh, I would be so lucky. Yeah, right!

 Lightening up outside. Wow, It's morning! Brain kicks into gear... but she is waiting for me!

 I have a date with the most sensuous woman I know - Mother Nature... and that light lasts such a short time. She'll be revealing all her charms just for me if I get there on time!

 You know the feeling too. You've seen that sunlight in the 'Golden Hour' send light dancing across your partner's skin! You've watched too, so you know the anticipation I feel as I dress, don my thick fleece for the chilly morning air, find my camera, stuff extra batteries in my pockets, then none too smoothly unzip the opening of the over-cab tent and stealthily climb down the ladder, but set the Hi-lux gently rocking. The snoring stops. Oh well, can't be helped. Hopefully, waking her may encourage her to get up and get that camping expresso machine on the boil for a hot cup when I get back. She's never offered me one yet...I have to settle for instant.

  I have to be out there! On the rocks! That Italian did me a favour waking me up: it's 5am already!

 "Hurry Jim." for I will attend Nature's morning show all on my own! Kubu Island awakes soon.



I climb up on the rocks, take a few pics then await the brightening glow on the far horizon.

 Now you don't wander alone around African koppes in the dark. Too many dangers to be out on your own. Leopard territory! But I had figured that there shouldn't be any leopard around Kubu Island as there was no water, the nearest being 100 kms away. And game migrates to where water is, predators follow them. Snakes can be a concern in rocky terrain; lots of hiding places and rocks to warm up on in the sun. As it was winter, hopefully they were hibernating. None too convinced, as I climb over the rocks I keep an eye on where I am stepping.

 The previous evening I had worked out angles, direction of light and shadows, and noted interesting features like rocks and twisted trees, so I knew where I wanted to be and when, in relation to the position of the sun as it rose higher.

 Baobab and star chestnut trees I shoot in silhouette early on. Later as the sun moves higher, I'll shoot them with the low sunlight straight on, but after I have been out on the pans for the first blaze of the morning sun over the horizon.



First ray of sun on the horizon.



 It occurs to me that photography allows me to be like an artist who paints colours and textures on canvas, but using the camera I can create visual scenes from the multi media that Nature supplies- rocks, trees, foliage, terrain, and sun light.

 I begin to paint-

I move around Kubu Island using trees and scrub to create my pictures.

 Then I notice in the distance an old, wrinkled, gnarly figure, reaching his arms out towards the warmth of the rising sun.

 Images of an old homeless man, ragged and dishevelled, hunched over a brazier on a dark winter's street fill my mind. He doesn't see me. I move closer silently, not wanting to disturb his entreaty for comfort from the new blazing sun.

I have no wish to humiliate him by letting him see me taking his picture, so I zoom the lens in and capture his embrace for warmth.

Sometimes it's best to leave an old man alone, undisturbed with their dignity intact.

Nature breathes new warmth and light across the land: old trees and ancient rocks absorb it. They glow red in the light...just for me.





The hand of Nature?

Can you see the outstretched hand in the foreground rocks?



Morning at Kubu Island, Botswana: The Hand Of Nature.

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