It is hot, the long golden savannah stands tall, militarily up-straight, sentinels of the Free State land. No breeze moves the silent windmills on the gently undulating slopes, over the little drift, up a hill, beyond a rocky mound. there the vehicles stop for that is the Rights Farm camping ground.

As the suns shines its last brilliant rays, with tents pitched, campfires for meals turning to grey ashes, amateur astronomers break the evening in togetherness and soul-stirring silences. The silver line of the spreading Milky Way guards the myriad stars that make the umbrella of the night. Second to travelling deeply westward, This is the night sky that every astronomer dreams of. In nature, under the under the star studded night sky with no whisper of a breeze, for many a night, what more could one ask for.