The shadows stamps from the clouds tattoo the South African soil like black sports on cow’s hide. These perfectly pure white, fluffy floating islands cast a dark imagine, a dualistic sight far up in the sky.
The vibrant red unsettled earth shows minimal traces of humanity lingering below. The patches of farmland are connected by straight and solitary roads, roads leading to seemingly nowhere. The small clusters of communities are circled around each other like a hug, so spread out that the distance is shocking even from the bird’s eye view from above the clouds.
Streaks of earth are so red that is looks a stain, like red food dye got spilled from a passing aircraft, like a drunken god spilled a glass of wine over this part of the earth.