To me the Kalahari is horizontal lines. Wide, blue sky and a flat, endless horizon lined with waist-high veldt grass and khaki shrubs. Occasionally acacia trees break the lines, but even their tops are stretched wide.
Night comes and the cooling plants release their fragrances. The scents of wild sage drift through the air. The winter months’ temperature variations still amaze me. Days are often in the mid-20s (Celsius), and the nights drop close to freezing. I put on a jersey.