No pictures, no words, no poetry nothing I can say, could adequately describe an African sunset over Lake Kariba. There is a magic, a mystery about it, and you have to be there to believe it. Below is what I wrote that first evening, sitting on the top deck of the Kestrel, and these are the photos I took. The sun is a red ball on the horizon. The Lake is absolutely still apart from a splash now and again when a fish jumps through the surface.
Baboons chatter on the banks, and the cry of the fish eagle pierces the dusk.
Further up the bank on the left, an old bull elephant, up to his knees in water, lets out a loud bellow, throws his trunk over his head, and showers his back. The sky is filled with puffs of gray cloud. The sun sinks a little lower, and suddenly there is a burst of colour across the sky. Reds, pinks, oranges, blues, violets it seems as if a heavenly artist has splashed colour everywhere. Brighter and brighter, the colours dance on the water.