Resting behind shelter, we watch the morning emerge slowly from behind the tree line. As the light pours through, men who spent the night hurling spear and arrow towards our shrouded foes, now weave through branches to collect their weapons. The murmur of voices from our camp greets the sunrise, calling us to return to our families.
The women had risen by the time we made our way back to the main camp. They round up children for the morning meal, greeting us over their shoulders as we pass. We drag our feet, weary from the night behind us and looking forward to resting our heads.
I stop for a moment to watch one woman emerge from a doorway. She blinks at the sunlight, smiling and stretching her arms above her head. She seems to glow, and when most would stumble from their sleep, she floats and seems somewhat blessed by the morning. My gaze lingers on her, my mind completely still while I watch. Her being captivates me; be it her natural beauty, the glossy morning light or exhaustion playing with my mind. I stand and watch her bathed in the sunlight.
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