May 7

​A daily routine is being established incredibly quickly. It is the herders who set the rhythm for the day. At dawn, the night-time herders come down from their watch and the whole camp stirs. At dusk, the daytime herders return hungry for food. We all eat. The day herders are also exhausted. The camp turns in to sleep.
 
Today Great Grandmother takes my arm. She leads me up to a low ridge. She stops at one rocky outcrop. At our feet the slopes run back down to our encampment and to the lake beyond. Away in the distance we can see the outline of the grazing herds of horses. Sitting up here we can see too, in the distance, the tumuli raised by Scythian warriors who have passed this way.

​At our backs the rocks are blackened, their surfaces engraved with ancient petroglyphs.
 
‘We all used to come up here during the war when we women were in charge’ says Great Grandmother. ‘There would be a time of day after the early evening meal when the small children would settle down, the night time herders would have set off and when we could relax after the efforts of the day. We talked. It was the older women mainly. But we teenagers could also chip in. We all shared a pride in our ability to manage the summer migration.’