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| My eyes, in the morning. |
It was, however, just the start of a much bigger symphony played out under a bejewelled sky.
I have just been rousted from my sleep by a snarling roar over my left shoulder, which was immediately greeted by a loud trumpet: an insistent reprimand.
It’s 2:30 a.m., and a lion has apparently overstepped its bounds amidst grazing elephants. There are no fences where we’re camping in the middle of the Okavango Delta.
Closer, a branch snaps. Then another.
And another, still closer. A crack. From the low tree that hangs over our tent. Dinner for some means no sleep for others.
Drawing an arc behind us like the thin moon, the massive animals make their way to the water nearby with a splash. It’s a thud of biblical proportions.
With it, the low, rooting snort of a hippo.
What a tremendous time to have to answer the call of nature.
No need to worry about Lions around your sleeping area. The fact they have no opposable thumbs means they can't work the zipper to get into your tents.
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