End of the day in Africa is always best.
The light is so soft, the sun angled so that the worst of the heat is filtered out and the light changes from white hot to a pale gold which ignites the tops of all the trees in the garden, the cassia are especially magnificent then, their candles of yellow flowers on fire. The sky is rinsed pale blue after last night’s rain; there won’t be any tonight, no clouds bruising our horizon this evening, just friendly pink puffs.
Yup, evenings best. And means I can have a beer.