Africa, My Song

In the predawn darkness, I lie on my cot, secure in my mosquito net cocoon.  The only sound is that of the large white baobab blossoms as they fall to the ground like wet sponges. The dawn breaks as the sun leaps into the sky, shattering the darkness with unexpected suddenness.

The silence, as well as the darkness, is broken.  Sounds erupt.  Baboons immediately began their raucous squabbling.  Warthogs grunt as they emerge from their burrows to start foraging.  I hear a leopard cough and the baboons warn the bush that he is still on the prowl.

The giant baobab next to my tent explodes with shrieks and squawks as dozens of parrots fly from their nesting holes, forming a group they head off into the bush.  Every morning they fly off in the same direction, returning at sunset.

Birds and monkeys add their voices to the morning sounds, but through it all, I hear my song.  Every day, all day, I hear the song of the mourning doves.  Their soft cooing cuts through everything and touches my heart.

I emerge from my cocoon and start a fire.  There is still a slight chill in the air, but it will soon be gone. By the time I finish breakfast the day is already heating up.  The song of the mourning doves is the only sound that remains..... What song of Africa will they sing for me today?

Marshall K Warren