As I write this, I can hear lions roaring near our camp in Duba in the swamps of the Okavango in Botswana. Magical things happen when lions roar in the wild. The first call sets all other living things in the savanna on high alert. As the second and third and fourth lions start up, and the first one roars again, suddenly you can’t tell if it is four lions or ten. It is an eruption of sound like a crowd spontaneously bursting into song. But most of all, it is a call that stitches the fabric of the night together and completes it.