Like Jonah on the mountain

Then the Lord God provided a leafy plant and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the plant. But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the plant so that it withered. When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind, and the sun blazed on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, and said, “It would be better for me to die than to live.”
Jonah 4:6-8, NIV

In Tsaobis I felt like Jonah every now and then. He sat on a hill overlooking Nineveh, I regularly sat on a hill overlooking baboons. I can relate most, however, to how he must have felt when his tree, and with that his shade, was taken from him.
When the sun would reach it’s highest point, you could be sure of it that the baboons would move into the shade. I made an equally thorough search for shade as them, but was left to the tender mercies of my companions. Small as they were, they would fit in each modest crevice or behind all short bushes. As soon as they found spots like that, it would mean the sun blazed on my head so that I grew faint: small spots of shade don’t harbour large people. One place, though, held my Jonah-tree, which luckily remained unaffected the whole season: Leopard Quelle. This water source was my beacon on hot days, where I could rest in the shade while the baboons quenched their thirst.