6. In the Jeep
As kids, my sister and I drove our mom crazy asking, “How much farther?” when we traveled from our town on the Canadian border of northern Michigan over the Mackinac Bridge and continued south to visit relatives in southwest Michigan. It seemed like we were in the car for days. Actually, we had to entertain ourselves in the backseat for only a number of hours until we reached our destination. That’s not the case on this journey in Namibia. The thought of asking “How much farther?” never crosses my mind because I’m not worried about how 
many miles we have to travel to reach our next camp. Even so, I know there are 2,200 miles of road between the first and the last camp I will stay in before I fly back to the United States. The scenery that surrounds me day after day is too picturesque for me to be concerned with distance and travel time. My fellow travelers and I have used words such as “stunning,” “amazing,” “gorgeous,” “pretty” and “awesome” over and over again to describe the beauty of the animals and vistas that fill our days. We’ve all used these words so much that we decided to take the descriptors to the next level. Words like “special,” “profound,” “soulful,” “moving” and “inspiring” are what I hear this afternoon, and I make note of them in my journal. These words have more depth and mirror what’s happening on the safari, at least for me. I know there is a shift happening inside of me — it’s visceral and profound. The air, which already smelled sweet upon arrival, smells sweeter the farther inland we travel. Colors seem richer, and my senses are heightened with every minute and every mile that we drive. The “sound” of silence in the 
middle of nowhere seems almost deafening. Across the vast, barren landscape, the sounds of the animals howling in the middle of the night are so loud in contrast to the quiet stillness of the camps. It’s in these moments that I became very much aware of my “oneness” with nature, even though I’m traveling with a group. I feel at peace here and connected with the divinity of being in this diverse and ever-changing environment. I think that is because of the amount of time we spend traveling, connected to the earth in the Jeep instead of flying from camp to camp. There is a sense of solitude in this space on the ground, and I’m aware of how peaceful and “grounded” I am. I 
wonder whether my fellow travelers are experiencing this sensation of connectedness as well. Perhaps. Or maybe not. Either way, this “grounding” is a comfort to me. The eight lanes of traffic that are part of my daily commute back home are a very distant thought. I’m truly connected to being here in the moment and the adventure of photographing and exploring Namibia’s surprising landscapes. They are as diverse as the array of animals I see spread over miles of the grasslands, savannas, hillsides, riverbeds and rocky terrains we explore. It’s odd to see such dramatic changes in the environment from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. I quickly learn that the only real consistency we have here is our night sky with the Southern Cross positioned overhead and surrounded by millions of stars. We know they will be waiting for us as we make our nightly bonfire. That extra warmth that awaits us at the end of each day is the punctuation mark to this safari, its sites and its stirrings…