It's late afternoon and I am with the chimpanzees of Gombe, the very same chimps that Jane Goodall lived with for years. I have followed them for several days, fascinated, as she was, by their similarity to us. We are the closest of kin and share more DNA (99.5%) than a zebra does with a horse.

 

After a sudden but brief shower the sun beams through a break in the clouds. I bask contentedly in its warm glow, blending into the forest, a part of its vanishing mystery. At times like these I feel the presence of God, a mystical experience that happens occasionally to those who spend time alone in nature. The air is filled with birdsong and the ratchety, scratchy sounds of cicadas.

Against the backdrop of breaking clouds in an indigo sky, lightning flickers and thunder rumbles. In the magic light I become acutely aware of various shapes and colors that envelop me, especially the leaves, each spangled with a necklace of raindrops. The scent of wet jungle is heavy in the air. I hear a crash through the canopy and look up to see a troupe of colobus monkeys in flight. A young village lady strolls gracefully along the nearby shore of Lake Tanganyika. And in the distant jungle a chimpanzee defends his territory with the familiar "pant-hoot," as Jane described it. The message-trespass at your own risk!