It’s summer and I can’t wait for our annual trip to the shore, my place of peace, of happy memories, old and new. Except this summer, my daughter won’t be joining us, because she is in freaking Africa. Namibia, to be precise. I wrote in my memoir, “I revel to watch my daughter dive into the waves, the furthest one out; I have given her those wings, or more accurately, those fins.” Megan is twenty-one now, and a marine science major. She needed a research internship and apparently with the dessert and the water patterns and who-knows-what, Namibia has just the kind of dolphins and sea life that interest her. I pointed out: New Jersey has dolphins! She answered with a coy smile and silence. ….
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Postscript, August 6, 2017:
My daughter returned home safely to the USA this past week. Phew! All is right with my world again. She truly has had a once-in-a-lifetime experience both travel and internship wise. She’s regaled us with stories and photos of marine life including spottings of mola mola fish (a huge creature), different classes of dolphins and wales, along with an array of safari animals. I love this photo from Sossuvlei, with the highest sand dunes in the world, salt base, and dead trees. She is glad to be able to once again sleep in her own comfortable bed, but loves the memory of sleeping on top of the jeep in a tent … to avoid getting accidentally trampled in the night by a wandering elephant!