Toerke

Chitwan National Park. To awaken to the trembling elephant’s trumpet. To float into the jungle in a tree trunk canoe, crocodiles at bay. To walk into the nest of rhinos, birds and monkeys. To swing through the greens on the elephant’s back feeling like a king. To rock hours on end in the hammock of our LunTara bush bungalow gazing at the distant mountain world. To chat hours on end with glasses of white wine and candlelight. To devour book after book in the sungrass. Jack Kerouac, William Sutcliffe and the chaos theory slip through the fingertips. It’s like a birdcage b&b, Out of Africa in the east. Where the nightly cricket’s song slowly swirls you into a dream far away from the mosquito net bed. To awaken once more to the trump concert. This is life at zero miles per hour. This is running empty at the pump. Perfect timing.