I love the moments on a game drive when someone first catches a glimpse of an animal and freaks out and can’t contain their excitement, but they know they have to keep quiet and so they flap their hands around wildly trying to cope with the overwhelming urge to shout and dance (it’s not just me, I’ve seen you do it too). I love it when people are so taken by the sight before them that they forget themselves for a moment and go full goofy or freeze, holding their hands over their mouths in disbelief, unable to take their eyes off the animal, unable to move, unable to think or talk or raise a finger. I love how the animals go about their preening and tumbling and loving and stalking as though they weren’t the most magical thing we’d just seen. I love it all and I feel it now looking through these photographs, remembering the looks on faces as we tracked these lionesses and their cubs across the Okavango. This is a love that does not fade, only grows the more I experience it. It’s born from the joy felt by witnessing another’s joy, the joy of people enjoying nature and acknowledging how so damn cool and charming it is, in the simplest of ways. A lick, a tail flick, a yelp, a yawn.