First village, Lesotho

Last night we turned in in our rondavels and thought we were on an isolated ranch. As it turned out, there was a wonderful community just through the trees. We hiked it this morning and met many kind people and cows along the way. The men typically sit in the fields with the sheep during the day and chip big chips of limestone into blocks (by hand), and the women harvest corn and water. The little ones smash the dried kernels and feed the pigs, and the boys load up mules and walk them into town.

On the hills beyond the village we saw dinosaur footprints. No velvet ropes or park rangers or ticketed exhibit, just deep vivid dinosaur tracks on a red clay ridge above a sheep field. It was quite an experience to put my hand in them and feel the grooves from its claws. It was a big four-legged dinosaur and you could almost see it shift its weight in the mud 50 million years ago. I will never forget the clank of the lead-sheep's bell and the sounds of chickens and babies in the distance while I had my hand in its tracks.