Wrapping up

December 1, 2018

Unnamed coffee shop, Sierra Vista, Arizona

Sitting in a coffee shop in Sierra Vista, Arizona.  Hoping to find the ‘hip’ place in town, something to replace the places we came to rely on in Bend.  Sadly, this won’t be the place, but I’ll keep looking.

Didn’t have much opportunity to write while in the Mara.  We were so busy and the time was so full, I couldn’t find a couple of hours to write.  Then, a week ago, on Saturday morning, we woke up in our tents on the banks of the Mara River, surrounded by hippos.  One last game drive, back for lunch, pack up and to the airstrip, to Nairobi, to Amsterdam, to Seattle and landed in Redmond, Oregon Sunday afternoon.  Tuesday morning, up at three-something, last breakfast with Gina, then spend two very long days in the car with a yowling cat. Literally 20 hours of yowling, like she was being skinned alive.  Arrived in Sierra Vista Wednesday afternoon.  Scrambled to make some sort of livable household out of a big, empty house. Start work on Friday morning. 

And now it’s Saturday again. I’m watching SafariLive from Kruger and the Mara and my heart is heavy with loss.  This whirlwind we’ve been in was, I think, unavoidable but it’s left no time to process the re-entry from the African bush into life here and, of course, life here is not ‘normal’ for me now.

The time in the Mara was amazing.  The routine was to get up early (wake up was 0530, but Gina and I would get up earlier because it seemed to take us a little longer to get going than some of the other guests).  We stayed in a comfortable tent along the banks of the River, tent 2 – Duma, which means cheetah in Swahili I think.  Some guests said they got great sleep, and Gina can sleep through anything, but it was hard for me to get much sleep.  Hippos were very active in the camp throughout the night (you’d hear them chomping grass right outside the tents) and every night we heard hyenas and lion. Most nights we’d hear baboons squabbling about something, with someone getting a hiding, and one night we heard a leopard sawing, followed by major upset with the baboons.  Bird life really fired up at about 0300, though sometimes there’d be vocalizing throughout the night.  So, not much sleep for me, but not complaining.  I didn’t want to miss any of this.

The routine was different than our routine in the Kruger.  We’d typically take off with a specific objectives (to find that leopard, those lions, etc.) and the distances were so great that you had to have a specific focus.  Gina and I were in a vehicle with Johan, our facilitator, and Jackson, who was the local Masaai guide.  Jackson drove (amazingly well), and we all looked.  The vehicle was a modified Toyota Land Cruiser (the preferred safari vehicle it seems) with a roof that would lift so that you could shoot either low out of the windows or stand up and shoot through the top of the roof. Hours spent bouncing around in this vehicle with these awesome people.  Honestly, I got to where I didn’t really even care so much about photography – I just so enjoyed the company of these people and the experience of being there. By the way, the bouncing around fools any electronic pedometer. According to my phone, I think I was averaging around 17,000 steps per day, sitting in the back of this vehicle.  

The Mara is so dang beautiful.  You could just look around you 360 degrees and in every direction you’d see a soft beauty, from the Olololo escarpment to the Mara River, south toward the Tanzanian border and the Serengetti (the boundaries of the ‘Triangle’).  Big, big sky, with horizon open, visible and unbroken by the clutter of man. The wildlife was almost overwhelming – massive numbers of zebra, wildebeest and buffalo especially.  You almost become numb to it.

The sighting were good, though, again, I was just so happy to be there.  Probably the most interesting for me was watching a group of relatively inexperienced lions trying to stalk buffalo.  We’d been watching these lionesses for a few days and had seen them make a lame attempt to snag a wildebeest.  They didn’t look too hungry though, which I think is a testament to the massive amount of lion food visible in every direction.  On this day, they’d been joined by a gnarly male lion named Ziggy.  Ziggy is a prime condition lion, not a Hollywood lion – a genuine baddass. He is one of the dominant lions in this area, with his brother, Bob Marley.  Ziggy and the girls were just sleeping.  But as the day drew to an end, the females started to slowly file off in the direction of a group of about 15 or 20 buffalo in the distance.  Among that group was a small calf.  We kind of lost track of the lions in the gather dusk, but then noticed that they’d actually made up quite a bit of distance to the buffalo and it looked like they might make a go at them.  We took off, bouncing along the two track trail that could pass for a road, sort of. We were driving fast because it was getting dark and there was quite a bit of distance to cover.  As we turned in the direction of the buffalo, we could see it was on and the buffalo were running around frantically, gradually regrouping in a tight mass.  And at that point, the vehicle quit running.  So while Jackson got out and popped the hood to see what was going on, we watched from a distance while the buffalo turned the tables on the lions. A group of four or five buffalo charged the lions and chased them full speed – hauling ass – across the plain. The rest of the buffalo stayed in a tight group with the calf in the center. The lions were in full retreat. And finally, Jackson found that a fuel line had come loose, reattached it and we were mobile again.  We started to head back to camp because it was getting dark.  We noticed then that Ziggy was up and he started trotting in the direction of the buffalo and it looked like the lions might take another run at them.  The addition of an experienced male would substantially change the equation.  But then Ziggy sat down, the lionesses sat down and by then the calf had been moved off over the top of a nearby ridge.  It was getting dark and we had to head back.  The next morning we found the lionesses again, but Ziggy’d ditched them, undoubtedly making the calculation that his odds of finding a meal were better without these ladies.

I think the thing that was most impactful for me in the Mara was the opportunity to get to know some Maasai people.  The camp is essentially run by a local staff, mostly Maasai, who are there from June through November.  Then, at the end of the season (and we were the last two guests), they tear the entire camp down, put it all into storage and let this site return to normal.  The Maasai wear traditional clothing in camp and that isn’t an act for tourists.  These are traditional people, who live in villages when not in camp, count wealth in cattle and goats, and the men often have multiple wives.  

I don’t know what I expected.  Somehow, I think I expected that these warriors who have killed lions with spears would be proud, aloof and stern.  What I found was completely different – they were friendly, warm, funny, open.  Proud for sure, but in the sense that they wanted to share their culture with us.  They were happy to talk and answer questions.

I think on our second evening in the camp, they prepared a special introduction to Maasai culture. They prepared a goat for the guests (there was maybe 6 or 8 of us at that time), quartered on spits over an open fire.  Then the head man, Dickson, stood and talked about the journey of the Maasai and the nature of the culture.  Then dancing and singing around the fire.  So much fun.  They sliced off bits of the goat for the guests as a starter to the meal, using the long knives that the warriors carry on their belts.  Just fantastic.

Later, I asked Francis about the organization of the Maasai people (is there a central organization, a head chief, that sort of thing) and he spent quite a bit of time describing the organization of Maasai by 10-year age cohorts, which govern themselves.  No courts. The age cohort makes decisions for themselves.  If someone has done something wrong, they determine the restitution or punishment, which might include taking someone out into the bush and beating the hell out of them. It’s simple, straightforward and seemed all about maintaining a certain harmony and balance among these nomadic herders.  There are also complicated rules governing marriage among these age cohorts, which I didn’t fully understand but I believe were meant to prevent incest.  

I think it’s fair to say that both Gina and I fell in love with these people.  The experience made a big impact on us and it’s sad to think that it’s now been a week.  Dickson is scheduled to come to the US on a marketing trip to New York and LA in February. Dickson has only been on a plane once – the bush plane between the Mara and Nairobi.  He has never experienced anything remotely like New York or LA. Hearing his experience will be fascinating.  Gina and I are hoping that we can go to LA and connect with them during this trip.

Some of the WildEye Mara team....

Gina and Duma tent

Hippos from balloon

Mara River

Beautiful Mara leopard

Flying back to Nairobi

So this entry has been long. It’s been such a frantic week.  Our lives are truly turned upside down right now.  I FaceTimed Gina this morning and hope that she will be here in a couple of weeks.  Meanwhile, I’m living in an empty house with a very unhappy cat who just wants to go back to her old life.  

I don’t know if/when we’ll go back to Africa.  Some of that is just acknowledging the uncertainty of life of course.  None of us know what’s in store for us (but we can be sure there are surprises ahead), but I’m also recognizing that I’m getting older and begin to think about what life will look like when I make a lot less money….  I just don’t know.  I think the experience in the Mara has fired up my desire to go back a lot more than our two weeks in the Kruger.  I just don’t know what’s possible.  Time will sort that out for us.  What I do know is that, for reasons I don’t  understand (and probably won’t make sense), my heart is there in Africa.  I sit here remembering that a week ago, two weeks ago, etc., I was there and trying to hang on to the memory by looking at the tan marks on my feet. But now, I sadly have to turn attention to all of the stuff involved in moving, finding a house, setting up a new location….

A quick note from the Masai Mara

Been without connectivity for about 5 days here in the Masai Mara, and just have a short window to write.  The truth, too, is that we've been busy from the moment we arrived here.

Short version (and I'll try and post more later) is that this has been an amazing experience.  We're staying in an isolated tent camp along the banks of the Mara River.  It's small, and private, and we're the last group of guests for the season.  They then completely dismantle and store the camp until next June.  Every night we hear amazing animal sounds and we routinely have hippo eating in the camp after dark.  Last night we heard hippo (hippo are right down in the river below the bluff on which the camp sits), baboon, hyena, lion and leopard.

Sightings have been excellent. Amazing really.  The landscape is hard to describe.  There's nothing to block the skies so big views in every direction and it's softly beautiful everywhere you look.  The density of animal life is astounding.  Almost overwhelming.  The migration is over, but the rains have been weird so there are many more wildebeest than we would usually have this time of year.

A couple of days ago we took a hot air balloon ride over the Mara.  Amazing, except for the loud, loud tourists we shared a basket with.  More to come on that.

And now lunch is served so I have to run!

Nairobi!!

Yay!!!

Fly to Mara tomorrow.

Travel and travails

November 18, 2018

City Lodge

Johannesburg              

My friend Phil Abbott used to tell us that the word ‘travel’ is derived from the word ‘travails’.  I looked it up just now and Phil is right – according to the Oxford English Dictionary.  It makes sense to me. There’s so much in common.

Yesterday was mostly uneventful.  Very hot in the Park, lots of wasted time driving around looking for living creatures. What actually happens when it gets hot – like approaching 100F – is that the animals largely declare a truce.  It’s too hot to chase anything, and it’s too hot to run so they just scatter under some sad little tree or bush somewhere and wait for night so that life can return to normal.  We did see a cheetah yesterday, sitting under a sad little tree off in the distance – that characteristic stance and profile against the shimmering heat. But too far and too much heat haze to bother shooting.  

We checked into Orpen Camp again for our last night in the park, hot and, speaking for myself, feeling pretty defeated photographically.  Then the thing that is Kruger happened.  Orpen is a small camp, with a pumped waterhole just outside the fence, lit by a single light.  Animals come there are throughout the night and it’s possible to sit on some benches along the fence and just watch.  Our first night in Orpen, three rhino came down to drink and last night our neighbors alerted  us that there were lions and rhino at the water hole.  So, we quit packing and walked to the fence to find the waterhole full of elephants, who’d evidently pushed everyone else away.  This was a fairly large breeding herd of a dozen or 15 elephants and they stayed to drink and then the matriarch gave the elephant low rumble “let’s move” sound and they all trailed off.  A few minutes later, the three rhino moved from out of the shadows to the water hole, and then there was a single form and then another and then a stream of lions coming in to drink. They clustered on one end of the pool, while the rhino stood at the other end.  And while the lions were drinking, a hyena passed by, keeping a respectful distance from the lions.  So, in 20 minutes, we saw elephant, rhino, lion and hyena, sitting on a park bench a few steps from our beds. By the way, I think there is a webcam from this waterhole on the SANParks website, if you're curious.

Hail Mary shot of lions drinking in the dark 

We got up early this morning and were first out the gate at 0430.  The ranger who opened the gate told us that lions had killed a buffalo outside the other gate (there’s a second gate leaving the camp toward the Park exit), but we went ahead and drove into the Park.  After about a half hour of nothing, Gina and I decided to backtrack and check it out.  We talked to the ranger again, who was unsure exactly where the kill was.  We did eventually find a spot where the kill took place – there were many vultures and we counted 10 hyena around, but no visible kill and no lions present.  We just continued up the road.  This is a paved road and it goes from the Orpen Camp to the actual exit of the Park for probably 10 km or so.  The gate into the Park was not yet open so we had the road to ourselves and it wasn’t actually even clear to us if we were supposed to be there, but we continued and coming over a rise we saw a figure in the middle of the road.  As we got closer we could see that it was a male lion walking away from us in the middle of the road.  We approached and followed at a respectful distance, not wanting to pressure him too much.  He was thin and clearly had had some sort of hip injury and was limping slightly. Eventually he stepped off the road and walked through the grass, beautifully backlit for a short distance before angling off into the thick bush.

Lion

And that was pretty much the end of our time at Kruger.  We packed up and drove to Eastgate Airport in Hoedspruit to catch the shuttle bus back to Jo’burg.  After a hair-raising 6 hour drive, we checked into the City Lodge to get a meal and a few hours of sleep before walking to the airport to catch the 0200 overnight flight to Nairobi.  When we arrived at the airport, we noticed first that the flight had been delayed and when we tried to check in we were told that the plane had been downgraded and there weren’t enough seats for all of the passengers and they could book us on tomorrow’s flight and they were sorry for the inconvenience.  We pleaded and leaned on them, but at the end of the day didn’t heap abuse on them.  It’s kind of heartbreaking though. We planned this for almost a year and now we have to re-work it and we lose a night in the Mara and at least one drive.  We now are scheduled to fly out tomorrow (today now…) at noon but arrive too late to get to the Mara so will spend a night in a hotel in Nairobi and fly to the Mara the next day.  I woke up Tanya from Wild Eye with the situation and she immediately began re-working and we’ll firm it up tomorrow.

Thus, the travails.  We walked back to City Lodge, went back to our old room and now it’s 0130 and Gina’s asleep.  We’ll have time to get some sleep, have a leisurely breakfast here and hopefully not get bumped again.  This kind of stuff happens in travel, but somehow it’s easier to swallow if it’s weather, or a mechanical issue – something that’s about our safety as passengers. I assume that this was an economic decision on the part of Kenya Airways. Which sucks, but one thing about travel is that it will teach you something about letting go, whether you want to or not.  

The good news is that we’re well, my clothes still smell like braii fire from Kruger and the internet at the hotel actually works great.

A couple of images I've edited

Cape buffalo

Marabou stork in flight

Last night in Olifants

November 16, 0608

Olifants

Been an eventful night. 

Took a late afternoon drive yesterday without photographing much.  Best shot was a young, male hyena who walked parallel to the road, but it’s stressful you know trying to drive and pull cameras out and set up and keep track of the hyena and then deal with other vehicles who want to know why you’re slowing down…. Then the moment is lost, and you have nothing but the taste of defeat and a mouthful of profanities for tourists.

On the way back, we went up to the overlook across from the turnoff to go to Olifants.  You climb, maybe a half mile, up this winding road to an overlook, which is one of the places in the Park where you can legally ‘alight’ from your vehicle – at your own risk of course.  Gina and I were up there with another vehicle with a middle-aged South African couple, watching the sunset. This location was where I had my first interaction with vervets. On my very first day in the Park in 2009, I stopped here and got out of my car to take in the view.  I heard someone shout, “They’re in your car!” and turned around to see a couple of vervets rummaging around in my car, because I’d left the window down. I ran to the car and the vervet effortlessly exited on the opposite side with the bag of almonds that I had just bought.  He ran up into a small tree, not 10 feet away, and opened the package and began eating almonds right in front of me.  That was my lesson, and my opportunity to learn that if you lock your shit up, there will be no problem with vervets.  

So, this South African couple were out, looking at the sunset and taking photos when a mother vervet, baby on her chest, appeared out of nowhere and made a run for the door. The man yelled and was quick enough to beat the mother to the door, while kicking gravel at her.  She behaved pretty aggressively and kind of challenged the guy.  Now keep in mind that vervets weigh about as much as a large house cat, but they can be kind of fierce.  I don’t know how often anyone actually gets bitten by vervets (my guess is that it’s very rare) but I’m pretty sure it would ruin your day and send you to a clinic outside of the Park.  The wife was busy cooing at the mother and taking video while the man stomped around, looking mad.  I didn’t actually see her feed the vervets (others had arrived – turns out they were lounging quietly just a few feet away) but I saw the vervets scrambling, picking up something on the ground, while wife video’d away.  Gina and I were getting into the car to leave when I saw angry man walk over to the driver’s side door and pull out a slingshot. Seriously, another damned slingshot. What is it with grown men and slingshots?  Park won’t let them have firearms, so they want the biggest weapon they can get their hands on to deal with these little vervets?  What a dick, and what mixed messages for the vervets – wifey feeding, cooing and videotaping while Jungle Jim is ready to lay the beasts down….  I’d had enough and so drove off, roiling in self-righteousness and expressing myself loudly to Gina, who was after all stuck in the car with me.  We went rolling downhill, not speeding, but not paying a lot of attention to anything except diagnosing all that’s wrong with the human condition.  Then we bumped right into a HUGE elephant bull, minding his own business.  I was surprised, and used very short, one syllable words.  He was surprised too.  By the time I’d collected my wits and could really appreciate him, I could see that he was also collecting his wits and wondering why he should put up with this crap. I could actually see him thinking that, so we scooted.  It was a reminder to not get so distracted in judging others that we miss opportunities (and threats) right in front of us.  As we drove, Gina was saying, “Stop, take a picture” (No) and I could see this massive old man stride across the road.  And the little devil side of my brain created a fantasy where angry slingshot man bumps into the same elephant, who’s significantly more irritated now, and ends up upside down on the hillside somewhere.  In spite of what Gina says, I will never be a saint.

Had a nice dinner on the deck of the restaurant overlooking the Olifants River, then bed early with the plan to get up at 0330, take an early morning drive and then back here to pack up and move on to Orpen for our last night in the Park. Heard lions way off in the distance.

But… at 0145 this morning the car alarm went off.  Man, nothing makes your adrenalin peak like a freaking car alarm parked right outside of your bungalow on a dead quiet, dead dark night.  Especially when you’re deep, deep in sleep. I was dreaming about something, but of course immediately had the dream pushed out by the sound of the alarm and then need to attend to that. I was probably dreaming that I was a genius trying to solve the problem of global warming, but we’ll never know now. Anyway, by the time I had lights on and was trying to find shorts, the alarm stopped and reset.  Crap.  So, grabbed head light and climbed the stairs and walked around to see nothing, glad that I didn’t have me for a neighbor.  I don’t know what was up – it was breezy but not like a windstorm and there was nothing stirring at all. Turns out that a car alarm went off in some camp we were in last but quickly turned off and we assumed, with great self-righteous judgement, that one of our neighbors messed up.  Now, I think a different story emerges….

With that drama, it was really hard to go back to sleep and I think I’d just started to drift off when the alarm went off at 0330. I made an executive decision to shut off the alarm and go back to sleep (trust me, Gina didn’t mind).  I decided that, rather than spend our last morning bouncing around rough, dusty roads, we’d take advantage of the beautiful view that we had to book a year in advance and just stay in and watch the morning unfold.  And dozed off, waking with some awareness that the sign was rising, and the francolin were calling at the beginning of the dawn chorus.  Then I heard something tug at the screen door.  So, our bungalow here is a circular concrete building, maybe 18 feet in diameter with small cut outs for a toilet/shower and for a sink. The front door opens onto a porch, overlooking the river, which has some built in cabinets, a sink and table and two chairs (where Gina and I are sitting now).  The front door has a screen door and a locking solid door, but because it’s so hot here, we just sleep with the screen door open. There’s a sliding lock on the door, but it doesn’t work. 

Every camp solves the monkey problem in a different way.  Vervets and baboons know how to open refrigerators, and they know what refrigerators are for (and we think we’re so damned great).  In many camps, refrigerators are outside, on the porch, but protected by a metal cage. In some cases (like Letaba), you actually have to position the refrigerator in way so that the door can’t be opened.  In other camps, like Orpen, they just move the refrigerator into the living area.

So, laying in bed, barely conscious of the first golden light and the calling of francolins, we hear a couple of tugs at the screen door.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door open slightly and something that seemed like a large, black dog come inside (it’s funny how your brain processes), heading straight to the refrigerator.  Then I saw an arm reach up to open the door.  In that instant, both Gina and I shot upright and blurted out ferocious animal noises – like, “Get outa here!  Why I oughta…!  Let me at ‘em!” and it was gone. With a moment to process, we realized that it was a freaking baboon and that he was trying to stealthily get into the bank where we keep the food.  Now, vervets are fierce, but baboons are a whole different level.  We just sat there and laughed.  THAT was finally the alarm clock that got us moving. 

And now the sun is higher and it’s clear and hazy and you can just tell that it’s going to be a stinking hot day.  This is our last day in the Park.  We drive today to Orpen, spend the night, and then head to Eastgate Airport in Hoedspruit tomorrow morning to drop off the car, catch the shuttle back to Jo’burg, sleep for a few hours, and then catch a 0200 flight to Nairobi to begin the next chapter.  I’m hoping and expecting that the next chapter will be better photographically.  I’ve not really gotten anywhere so far.  But it beats working.

November 15

November 14, 2018

Olifants Rest Camp

Three in the afternoon and sitting on deck at river view bungalow at Olifants.  Olifants is situated on a high bluff overlooking the Olifants River.  The river consists of a very wide river valley and this time of year the river is made up of many small channels cutting through the rocky, sandy river bed. Some of the channels appear to be barely moving but others move enough water to create small series of rapids and generating a sound of flowing water that we hear even up here at the top of the bluff.  The river flows due west and directly under our bungalow takes a 90 degree left hand turn, heading south.

As I started to write, a large family group of elephants crossed the river right to left. The matriarch seemed to be in a hurry and wouldn’t let them spend time in the river, rushing them through the bush on the other side.  I noticed a large bull trailing along behind and thought that maybe that was the reason – bulls can be troublesome as they trail a family group trying to determine if there are mating opportunities.  And now, I see, way on the other side across the bend, a very large herd of elephants literally running across the sandy river bed into the bush.  Something is up – something very upsetting to them – but not something I can detect from here.  Maybe there are lions down in the river bed.  Lions aren’t generally a threat to elephants but if the family has many young, they won’t be at all comfortable remaining in the presence of lions.  They’re gone now, and in the middle distance I see a bull slowly walking through the channels of the river, unbothered by whatever drama the breeding herd was experiencing.  

There’s the usual bird drama down in the river – I can hear Egyptian geese squawking about something and way down at the bottom I see a fish eagle standing in the water, that unmistakable speck of bright white in the river.

It’s warm to hot, but not unbearably hot, and there’s a gentle breeze blowing.  Barely the whisper of a cloud in the sky.  No hint there of the rain that’s badly needed here. Just below me, on our side of the fence, there are a couple of female bushbuck, eating grass in the shade. Maybe 10 meters away.  Bushbuck are commonly found in camps – they seem to adapt to being around people easily, and they figure that hanging with people improves their odds of surviving Mr. Leopard and living to an old age.  It is, however, a little acknowledged fact that Mr. Leopard does come into the camps to shop for a bushbuck from time to time. Still, their odds are better and it’s best not to tell tourists everything.

Last night we took a drive before gate closing and had a nice sighting of a herd of buffalo with extreme backlighting as the sun was dropping toward the horizon.  It was hard to work – the bush was thick with scrubby mopani and buffalo just keep moving, meaning that you have to work fast. But I’m hopeful that I got some useful shots.  Then we came back and had a huge, delicious and slow dinner at Letaba.  You just can’t be in a big damn hurry here, the way we all seem to be at home.  Or, you can I guess, but it will be a miserable experience and every day we see people who seem to be intent on having a miserable experience. For our part – screw that.  We’re in the coolest place on earth and the days are counting down and we’re not going to get upset over slow service for a great meal.  My strategy, actually, was to just make the gin and tonic a double….

We got up early this morning and actually got out the door at 0445, which isn’t exactly early, but it seems like it’s good for us.  We headed west on the paved road toward Phalabora, taking a couple of beautiful loops on unpaved roads, encountering a very relaxed elephant family group and eventually rejoined the main road.  Some distance down, there is a dam, with some water in it and a pullout (I forget the name of the dam, and the map is in the car and it’s SO many steps from here…). Folks often stop there to watch hippos or birdlife, but we noticed more cars than usual so we pulled in.  Looking down from the overlook, into the sandy bed of what is this pond when it’s full, there was a dead buffalo (one of the dagga boys, I’m afraid) with a large male lion feeding.  It was a very fresh kill. The carcass was barely disturbed and the lion’s face was covered in bright red arterial blood.  It was very far away, but with the 600 and the cool air (meaning minimal heat haze), I was able to get some shots (I think).  We stayed for a while and then this massive lion got up and walked off out of sight to the right, still a great distance away.  Some of the folks there then pointed out that there was a lion very close to the car park, out of sight from where we were parked so when traffic cleared out for a moment, I repositioned to find a sleeping young male lion – not the same lion who was at the kill – this one much younger. We waited for quite some time for him to get up, or at least lift his head.  Eventually he did, and I was able to get some tight portraits of this boy. I don’t think it’ll be great stuff – his face was in dappled light as the sun came through the bush – but it was something.  We were getting ready to go, when another young male showed up and sat down near him. Eventually a few vultures showed up (it’s also evidence that the kill was fresh, because it was right out in the open and for sure there will be a mob of vultures hanging around by now), and the prime male came back out in the open to feed more on the carcass and to also run off the vultures.  While he was feeding, a large herd of buffalo came down to drink.  It was interesting to watch from our high vantage point because they moved as a group in the direction of carcass and lion, but pulled up and stopped dead – I assume when they suddenly smelled lion. After assessing the situation for a while, they abruptly changed direction and exited stage right.

Eventually we decided we created enough images of a young male lion sitting in dappled light for the world to get by, plus we had to check out of Letaba, so we headed back, packed and hit the road to Olifants.  Breakfast on the deck overlooking the river, a short drive and another encounter with a very hot family group of elephants, and then check in at 1330.  And now here, with Gina napping, me tapping and hippos bellowing in the river below.

In a bit, we’ll load up and go for a short, end of day drive.  The time in the car is physically confining, and there’s certainly discomfort in that. But it’s nice to have the time to be apart from daily drama of real/home life/what I do for money, to think and appreciate being observant of the world.  I try to see and hear and smell and sense what’s happening around me and that focus on the present is for me very healthy.

I have many changes ahead of me.  I’m leaving an honorable, long time employer and I’m noticing pain in that for me. I’m going to a new job, with new challenges and strains and undoubtedly new dramas yet to come.  I don’t actually know how I’m going to pull off the next few weeks.  It sounds pretty awful if I think about it too much. I just know that I’ll get through it and that I’ll end up working with a new set of honorable people, doing work we all care about.  I’ll have a new opportunity to explore an outside world there.  I guess I have to think of the next few weeks the way I think about the flight over here, right?  It’s just going to be hard and uncomfortable and awful for a time, but then look where I am and what I see and hear and smell right now…. Like way, way off in the distance, way out there, I can see a family of warthogs working their way to the water.  Behind them, a group of bachelor elephant bulls. On the near bank a waterbuck. Black-capped bulbuls are flittering round my bungalow and somewhere out of sight, an Egyptian goose is making a fuss about something she doesn’t like.

I hear Gina stirring so time to get to it….