The dry season has the runway in its grips. Grass browned, soil cracking, hard as concrete. The dusty, limited visibility, coupled with crisp sound of grass crunching beneath your feet, as you inspect the runways and safety areas, hoping that visibility will increase and flights resume, is like walking through a Martian wasteland. The occasional rabbit or Partridge suddenly crosses your path reminding you that this is a temporary state. Soon the rains will come, and with them the sky will clear and the grass regenerate overnight to soft green, and the cracking earth will heal. It just takes time. We must make the most of that time when it reaches us.