Every now and again we must remind ourselves of the time that came before this time... and think also of the time that is to come... and when we stand with our eyes open on this long timeline, with all the other souls that have come and gone and come again, then we will best understand this story... the story of the First People and ourselves.
Here on the Great Sand Face of the Kalahari it feels like being at the centre of the earth. It is not the people who decide what sort of day it will be, it is the day who decides how the people shall be. Today they are gentle, like small soft clouds spread across the early African sky. They are the First People of Africa... the people of the healing dance. They are the story-painters of the rocks, who speak old words with a clicking tongue.
They carry the memory of an earlier time when the earth had a different spirit form. They walk the tail end of a time when people were still one with the whole, and the voice of God was not strange. They come from the time of innocence, and they call themselves the Bushmen... living in the way that all humanity has lived on earth since the beginning, and they are the last of the first.
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