When I was in Namibia I was following around baboons in a desert landscape. We followed them all day, from sunrise to sunset. And even though I loved the experience, it wasn’t always easy.
It was the African winter, which meant near freezing night temperatures while you’re sleeping in your tent. Then there were the early rises, before sunset (maybe around 5AM), to make sure we’d get to the troop in time. That required a physically hard walk, which was especially daunting if the baboons were on a far away sleeping cliff. There was the carrying around five litres of water to stay properly hydrated during the long warm days. And only then there was the actual follow of the troop during the day, wherever they went.
While I was visiting Glasgow a while back, I walked through Kelvingrove Park on my way to Glasgow Vineyard Church. Because of a silly mistake I was rushing to get there in time. Sometimes, though, while I walk, I feel like there’s something I need to pay attention to. Something that’s more important than the meeting or thing that’s preoccupying my mind.
That’s when I noticed a fir tree. It looked incredibly beautiful and green, with some sort of green berries at the tips of it’s leaves. So full and lush, at first sight. It drew me closer. But then, as I got closer, I noticed that it was only the outside that was green. The inside was leaflessy brown. No sunlight could penetrate the thick layer of leafs shielding its inside.