I was in the bush one night looking at the way the flames grasp at the stars, and I was admiring every individual spark. They would not appear at a specific given time for a specific given reason, but they came as they wanted. Some went high, others died out quickly. It reminded me that each of us come from the same place, just scattered all over. Some live long, others not so much. Looking at this photo is a perfect example of why, at that space and time, I felt like every one of us are scatterlings of Africa.