Postcards From The Edge

I wouldn’t have known there was another soul around, had it not been for their calls emanating from the steep mountain faces. Motionless, crouched and wrapped in their thick blankets, the Basotho shepherds blended perfectly into the landscape. However deep I penetrated the highlands, I was treated to an omnipresent concert of distant songs, whistles and shouts interwoven with the occasional dog bark, sheep bleat or donkey bray. This mesmerizing and beautiful ancestral mode of communication allowed them to share information instantly over vast distances. It became the daily soundtrack of my traverse of the Kingdom In The Sky.