Waiting, waiting and more waiting. Add some more waiting for good measure.

It’s been eleven weeks since I started the process with the home office.

First this, than that. And oh, we should have done the fingerprints first.

Oh Dear.

It’s not that I am unhappy here @Desert Sky Backpackers and Camping.

Mischa surely is not complaining. Last time I walked through the door, she looked twice if it is me.

From there on she becomes my shadow. It is an intense connection we have.

‘The zebra is back’ is heard from a friendly voice out of the office. Nice to be back.

But the time and diesel spent, driving back to Swakopmund to be told ‘Nothing New, Sir’ gets somewhat frustrating. I could have spent more time where I want to be, in the middle of nowhere.

Nobody around, No one knows, no noise.

The sound you wake up too, quiet as a library. Only a few birdies chirping. Was that a Jakkel barking?

It is off course a natural library. An astounding library. Full of colours and patterns.

Adaptation is the key in this harsh country. Only then will the strong survive.

The things I learnt. The amazing sights, all included, I have seen.

All those animals I encountered. Their behavior. How it changes at certain times of the day.

How nature prepares for shelter from the burning sun.

Making the most of the deserts most precious gift; water.

The amount of bees was simply remarkable. It of course explains the variety and quantity of tress, bushes and scrubs right here. Many with lush leafs and dazzling flowers.

It is the oldest desert in the world after all. All around you.

If these mountains could talk. What a story that would be.

Not to mention gusty winds. They are strong and they are cold.

The intensity was insane on many days as catapulted particles chisel sandstone away. Over millennia.

Leaving a mark mostly noticeable on off-road tracks you drove by hours ago.

For most, the strategy is to face on what’s to come. This is how it’s always been.

Mixed weather days are complimented with chilly evenings.

Often wild, till early morning… until you hear the birdies twitching again.

Add the eerie quietness of the morning sun, eventually covered in clouds and a mistical blanket over the horizon.

The ‘golden hour’ scene and the combination of rugged beauty and colour spectrum meant I will not get away. Not as early as hoped for.

Why would you leave beauty? Might as well stay another night. By now I had studied my field of photography and videography and have points off interests for certain cameras in certain angles. At certain times of course.

Which rock art should I use for my motion lapse video? What is the best vantage place for Ricky Lee?

These are tough decisions you know.

I chose to use only 10 photos, random photos I thought would fit in the scene.

This will be my challange for the next few stories. Ten photos.

The rest is your imagination.