Barking

Cambridge did itself proud today, bright and sun full and sharply chill with high, blue skies. It felt a little treacherous looking out of my window at it all, sitting with my headphones on and listening to play back of the interviews I had taken one night on the banks of the Kafue river in Zambia. The bush is noisy at night. Tree frogs, crickets, night jars, jackals, hippo and a far off lion sing, hoot, shriek, giggle and call in my headphones as I look out on my green and brown square British garden with Dennis the Squirrel making V signs at the pigeons. That squirrel! I should make him listen to this racket…he would pass out.

The past few days I have woken in the grey light of morning not knowing what country I’m in or how old I am. It is neither a nice nor a nasty sensation….just a disorientation. a feeling of being spun around in a whirlpool and not being sure which way to rise to the surface. It only lasts a moment but it is with relief I find myself this side of puberty. I have had it before after stressful travel between old homes and identities and it usually goes after a week or so but it is a remarkable sensation. Then again..I could be barking bonkers. It happens you know. Perhaps I am not wearing headphones at all………oh dear…