I can’t think of a better place to be wrapping up the year than right here, surrounded by family, friends, and the kind of beauty that makes you stop mid-sentence. Botswana has a way of slowing you down, making you breathe deeper, and just be in the moment—not just rush through it.
Mornings start before the sun, piling into the safari jeep with blankets and an almost ridiculous amount of excitement for someone who’s barely awake. But the second that first streak of gold cracks across the sky? Worth it. Every time. The bush comes alive—elephants moving like ancient giants, giraffes stretching toward the treetops, a lion lazing in the grass like he owns the place (because, well, he does). It’s the kind of setting that makes you feel small in the best way.
And yet, even with all this happening around me, my mind keeps slipping back to them—Lucy and Alex. The characters that won’t leave me alone, the story unfolding whether I’m at my desk or out here in the wild. Maybe it’s the stillness of the landscape, the way the sky stretches forever, or the feeling that anything could happen just beyond the next bend. It mirrors them—the tension, the unpredictability, the way their worlds keep colliding and pulling apart. I can’t help but scribble notes between conversations, my brain racing ahead of my pen, chasing the next moment in their story.
Afternoons are slower, stretched out under the sun, sipping drinks, sharing stories, and laughing until our stomachs hurt. But even then, I catch myself drifting—playing out scenes, untangling dialogue, letting the characters move and breathe. It’s like they’re right here with me, whispering in my ear, refusing to be ignored.
Then comes sunset, and with it, the ritual of sundowners. The sky turns liquid gold, the air hums with cicadas, and for a moment, everything just is. A pause before the next chapter—of the year, of the book, of whatever comes next. And as I sit there, surrounded by the people I love, I know one thing for sure—this story isn’t waiting for me to get home. It’s already alive. I just need to keep up.
Being in Africa, surrounded by family, feels like living inside a story—one that unfolds with every golden sunset, every shared laugh, every breath of the wild.
Jamie Loghan
