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Walking in the footsteps of Horst Klemm
You are alone. The veld lies still and golden under the African sun. The air is breathless and hot. You lie low in the long grass. You can smell the dust. Nothing moves. The cat gets up. Yellow-green predator eyes turn to you. Click click. And then they are gone. A moment that will never happen again. A moment that hangs on the wall in your city apartment, or your office, or your mother’s lounge, or your cottage by the sea, or a semi in the suburbs. A moment that stirs the heart of the adventurer that lives in you.
