I had my head buried in a book about a female traveler, lost in her words and her story. I look up, and remember I’m in Africa.

The full moon glows low in the sky the morning of our safari, just above the Ngorongoro rift. Roosters crow, crickets chime, and clouds grew as the moon rests on the edge of the crater’s rift. Birds chirp, and indigenous people’s goats bleat.

I had faint dreams of visiting Africa for a safari, but never thought it would come true until this summer.

My husband and I chose Ngorongoro Crater – the world’s largest inactive volcanic caldera, nestled between Tanzania’s national parks, only a few hours drive from Mount Kilimanjaro. The wildlife is said to be more calm here than in the nearby Serengeti. Perhaps because no humans are allowed overnight.

We venture into earth’s deep crevice, a sort of eden, where only wildlife live. Zebras, giraffe, elephants, and lions graced us with their beauty. Flamingos, wildebeest, buffalo, baboons, jackal, warthogs, ostrich, hippos, gazelle, and waterbucks appeared too. They were equally mesmerizing – something of a waking dream in natures’ own paradise.