Europe is the continent of history, of culture and civilization, of kings and rulers and empires. It’s the lineage of peoples wrestling for power and control over thousands of years.

Africa is the continent of life. I’ve felt it once again. I landed in Nairobi yesterday, and driving to the hotel from the airport, I could feel it. It was then I realized it’s been 7 years since I last set foot on this continent. That shocked me; I had forgotten it was so long. Too long.

This place is sacred. I’ll be reminded of that again tomorrow when I embark on a safari. There’s magic in the air here. Africa is the least developed of the continents, but it’s also the most wild and the most free. You feel connected to the Earth here. The animals and landscapes, at least for me, make me feel more human than any art or architecture could.

In an earlier post I wrote how one of my grandparents wished more first-world (and especially American) children would spend a year abroad, to broaden their perspectives. There might not be a better place than Africa. It’s one of the last places left in which we can commune with nature, wild nature. Not just a national park but wide swaths of land, ruled over by the animal kingdom, not a human one.

It reminds us that we’re not here alone. That we share the Earth with others. That we belong to nature. That we are wild and free, and alive.

This is Africa.