All hopes for a green and lush summer at Sentinel have seemingly been dashed by the relentless drought that has hit the Limpopo Valley. Cloudless skies penetrated by seering sun have turned the fresh young shoots, that heralded the rainy season in spring, to brown. The large swathe of Limpopo River glides silently by, charged by consistent and heavy rains over the lower Limpopo catchments around Gauteng in South Africa - yet abandoned by the greater flows from the north. Its main tributary, the Shashi River (that runs between Zimbabwe and Botswana), is dry. One would expect to find everything in the bush dead, flesh shrivelled and taught over skeletons of stinking bones. The miracle of nature however, is that despite conditions that you or I would expect would wipe out every living thing, life goes on, almost ignorant of the strangling heat and waterless air. Animals move, tempted by the sweet scents of rains far off. They become opportunists, nibbling at the surviving green shadows under bushes and sheltering trees. The impalas have lambed, the zebras are fat, and birds make use of the windless days to build nests and breed. Despite it all, the bush thrives. Somehow.