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This story is one I had to earn. A three-hour climb to 9,000 feet on slopes thick with stinging nettles and tangled vines. I was in Rwanda, on the trail of the endangered mountain gorilla, with only my camera and an unfounded faith that these massive creatures would not crush me.
The journey was number-one on my bucket list — to be among these magnificent primates in their native habitat and on their terms. That they let me do this, accepted me into their domain, still amazes me.
Many months after returning home, a friend asked if I thought magic really existed.
“Oh yes,” I replied. “I’ve lived it.”