Three tsessebees saunter up to their bellies in strong vertical spikes of custard-colored grass. Their shoulder humps, sea-horse faces and gleaming russet coats rise and fall, rise and fall, from left to right, like a musical score on parchment.
The light in this photograph belongs to lingering saxophones. Long, rich, golden notes catch and roll on the backs of impalas, snag in the teeth of lions and smolder in the burnt umber eyes of eagles. The grasses, the trees, the tsessebees, all are coated in honey as the sun bends at the waist and pours out the last light of day in a long slow moan, a sweet trickle down the throat of night.
6 thoughts on “The Light from Saxophones”
Beautiful picture, beautiful story, beautiful writing
Cheryl, your words are nectar — “a sweet trickle down the throat” Hugs
Beautiful all the way around, thank you.
Thanks for your kind words Chic!
I love the way you weave the words!
Thanks, once again!