I had come to Papago Park to find a landscape, but I found something much more enduring: the tireless, flag-bearing architects of hope.

The morning arrived draped in sound: the cries of the gulls wheeling over the water, the rhythmic sigh of the waves breaking against the seawall, and the haunting, timeless echo of the morning prayer stretching out from the city. From our vantage point on the terrace, gazing across the port, there it was: Africa.