Dear Reader,
I spent my childhood weekends running wild in a beautiful corner of the Namibian bushland. The bush is more than just a place to me: it’s a feeling, a connection to the land that runs deep within my soul. I can still recall the sensation of a Swarthaak thorn catching on my jersey, the warmth of red sand between my toes. And then, there it is – the sight of a kudu cow, with her magnificent round ears and mesmerising long-lashed eyes, peering at me through the thicket. In an instant she disappears, darting off with her family, vanishing back into the wilderness. All that remains is the soft coo of a Mourning Dove perched in a shepherd’s tree nearby. This wilderness, this sanctuary, is familiar to so…