The very real place that I call "Squiggy's Hyrax Hut"

It's my house and it's covered in hyraxes.

Atop the rooftop spire there is a hyrax catching the morning sunrise heat.

I moved into a Maasai Manyatta in 2015.  Its been updated with plumbing, electrical and even fiber optic and wifi -- but it was originally built with cow dung, mud and tree branches.  

It was built decades ago, and since then, long before I arrived, hyraxes discovered the safety of the metal sheeting roof space added to the original building.

The house came with about 15 hyraxes, and they meditate each evening above my bedroom window, and by midnight they all cuddle up, out of sight.  On warm mornings they start bouncing around, waiting for the first rays of the morning sun to recharge their wierd little batteries. 

I can hear them from most any room in the house.  Scratching.  Playing.  Jumping up and down.  It's cozy in here, and the sound of hyraxes is soothing in some odd way.

They scream.  They play. And the munch on the foliage all around my house.  They don't go far.  But sometimes they take vacations and all leave for a couple weeks at a time.  But sure as sure can be, when it's time to have babies, the females return.  Just before childbirth starts happening the older males show up and start guarding the premises.  When the babies are born the whole clan keeps watch and helps raise the young.

Me?  I just come and go, and sometimes the older ones, and the ones that have stayed in this family the longest are keen to have me hand deliver the local leaves for their consumption.  They are lazy.  So if I can just pick foliage from a few feet away and save them the jump off the roof, they are happy to take my offerings.

So I photograph them and show the world on social media the many quirks of the hyrax.  Thier butts are fuzzy, their tusks are sharp, their screams are loud and it's quite possibly the coolest part of living in a far away place.

As for Squiggy - that's another story.