Safari Jeep Breakdown – Part 2: Sunrise on the Mara

Zawadi woke before the sun, wrapped in the blanket with Daniel's arm lying lightly across it. The plain was grey and silent, the air cold and clean. She lay still, afraid that moving would break something.

Daniel's eyes opened, clear and unhurried.

"You are awake," he whispered.

"The sky is changing colour."

"Then do not waste it."

She slid out from under the blanket, camera in hand, and climbed onto the roof of the jeep. The horizon was a thin line of gold. Then the sun broke over the edge of the world, and the whole plain lit up in orange and rose, every blade of grass glowing.

A herd of wildebeest was moving across the plain in a long dark river, heading for the water. Zebra moved among them, striped and nervous. Far off, a giraffe lowered its neck to the ground.

Zawadi's breath caught. She raised the camera and began to shoot, slowly at first, then faster, her hands steady for the first time in weeks.

Daniel watched her from below, silent.

When the herd had passed, she lowered the lens and looked at him across the roof.

"That was the best morning of my life," she said.

"Mine as well," said Daniel, and his voice was warm.

He climbed up beside her, and they sat on the roof with the radio crackling in the cab below. The camp would send a truck within the hour.

"Can I ask you something?" said Zawadi.

"Yes."

"If the jeep had not broken down, would you have asked me to stay out here with you?"

Daniel was quiet. The light moved over his face, soft and golden.

"I would have asked you in the first week," he said. "I did not have a good excuse."

"The hose was a very good excuse."

"The hose was a gift," said Daniel, and grinned.

She laughed, and leaned against his shoulder. The wildebeest were crossing the river now, the water churning silver.

"Can I ask you something else?" she said.

"Yes."

"Would you let me come back next month, and the month after, and photograph the plain with you? Not for work. Because I do not want to stop."

Daniel's smile was slow and glad. "Yes," he said. "And I will fix the hose."

"Can I kiss you?" asked Zawadi.

"Yes," said Daniel. "And if you say stop, I will tell the hyena."

"That is a terrible threat," said Zawadi, and kissed him.

It was warm and unhurried, the taste of tea and dust sweet between them, his hand cradling her cheek, rough and gentle. Below, a truck engine sounded faintly on the horizon, and neither of them moved until it was close.

When they parted, both were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Zawadi. "Very green. Now let's get the truck, Daniel, before the hyena tells everyone."

"He has already told his wife," said Daniel, and helped her down into the golden light.