Riding a feather
in the wind beyond nature’s
gentle hand, I play.
Riding a feather
in the wind beyond nature’s
gentle hand, I play.
KT, our guide at Kadizora Camp gently rapped on our tent door at 6:30 am to accompany us to the dining tent for a continental breakfast. It was still dark, hence the escort. We were following a verbal command from camp personnel requiring us to stay put during darkness due to a heightened risk of encountering wildlife in our area.
Only last night at 11:20 pm, an elephant known to the camp as Franklin startled me awake by rubbing against the outside of our tent.
“Do you hear that?” I whispered to Leah.
“What is it?” she yawned, seemingly annoyed that I had interrupted her sleep.
“I think it’s an elephant.”
“What?!” she snapped awake.
“Whatever it is, it’s right outside our tent,” I said in my softest library voice.
As if on cue, Franklin’s massive silhouette lumbered along our raised deck, grabbing and tearing tree leaves with his snaking trunk as he filled the zipped screening with his immensity, leaving us paralyzed in awe until he was gone.
Damn! Where was my camera?
Grabbing my arm, “Oh my God!” Leah gasped, “Did you see that?”
It was thrilling yet alarming to watch. Adrenalin pumped through our weary bodies, wiring every nerve and depriving us of much-needed sleep. Eventually, the continuing soft grunts of snoring warthogs under our tent provided the white noise we needed to lull us back to a peaceful slumber until our 6:00 am wake-up.
“Are you ready to see big cats today?” asked KT, his flashlight in hand.
“Absolutely,” I answered eagerly, as we followed him down the illuminated path to the safety of common ground.
“Did you have a visitor last night?” he wondered, already knowing the answer.
“We did,” I shared. “How’d you know?”
“An elephant bull-dozed the contractor’s tent last night. Turned it into a heap of broken sticks and canvas,” he said.
Once out in the bush…
cruising along rutted ribbons of sand separated by tall grass,
we came across a small herd of Cape buffalo grazing…
that appeared to be pulling closer together, adopting a defensive posture.
“Those buffalo are nervous,” asserted KT. “Do you see how they all stare in the same direction? Most likely, they have picked up the scent of a lion or leopard, and they are closing ranks for protection.”
“I think something may happen here, so we should stay for a bit and see what develops.”
KT repositioned the Toyota in the shade of a large ebony tree, and we patiently watched the herd from a distance, scanning the perimeter for predators in the hopes of encoutering a potential kill.
“There!” he exclaimed.
A young male had emerged from the bush to the right of the herd, and just as quickly disappeared into the thicket for a closer look at the buffalo and to assess the situation.
Wow! This was exactly what we came for, but it was a fleeting moment which left us somewhat deflated.
Undeterred, KT started up the Land Cruiser and cautiously followed the lion, who reemerged on the other side, and relocated on a shady slope upwind of the herd.
“This is where it will happen,” asserted KT, as he drove even closer to the resting young male.
No doubt, the lion was fully aware of us, as it turned in our direction.
“He knows we are here. Aren’t we intruding by being this close?” I asked KT.
“The lions really don’t see us; they only see this truck–not the people inside,” he replied. “They don’t sense the truck as threatening, and it doesn’t smell like food. From the time they were cubs they have grown up knowing this vehicle, and they have become desensitized to its presence in the savanna. So as long as we respect them and do not interfere in their business, we can get very close to them. However, you must always remain seated, and for obvious reasons keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.”
“Why can’t we stand?” I asked.
“The moment you stand, you change the dynamics and the lion no longer sees the truck as a familiar object, which may make him uncomfortable and put you at risk,” explained KT.
And then another lion materialized from the brush.
“Ahh…this makes complete sense to me now,” KT surmised. “They may be brothers, and they are working together to isolate one buffalo from the herd before the herd disappears into the brush.”
KT restarted the Toyota and pulled closer yet, thinking the timing was right and the attack was imminent. We pulled within a few feet of the new male, who made himself very comfortable beside us…
while the first lion remained vigilant on the mound.
By this time, the herd had keenly sensed the pair of lions around them, and moved into the protective thicket nearby, preempting the attack.
Realizing the chase was over, one beckoned the other…
to a family reunion.
OMG!!! We held our breath, wondering what was next for the brothers. It had been an exhausting morning of hunting without a victory.
Hence, it was time for a nap!
Just then, KT answered a dispatched call on the radio alerting him that a colleague had spotted fresh leopard tracks a few klicks away, so off we went in search of another adventure.
To be continued…
When our day is done,
and sun surrenders to night,
the colors take flight.
Wandering through the bush of Okavango Delta in an open-air Land Cruiser, our guide/driver manuevers with deliberate speed and gear-shifting finesse through tall grass and rutted tire tracks. We are on a mission to see wild animals in their natural habitat, but these animals are never as cooperative as we would like them to be–moving from place to place in search of water and food–so they must be tracked to be found.
Fortunately, between hopeful sightings of the “Big Five” (elephants, buffalo, lions, leopards, and rhinos), and other assorted beasts of beauty, there is always a melange of birds to entertain us as we pine for the big animals we’ve come for. Our 7,000 square-mile playground is home to over 500 different species of birds spread throughout the islands, river channels, lagoons and drylands of the delta, so birds are easy to come by.
However, by no means is it possible to spot such a vast variety of birds, as our window of opportunity is short, our driving radius within the bush is narrow, and the focus our visit is not intended to be a birding safari.
Yet KT (our guide) never hesitated to point to trees in the distance, flying fowl near or far, or slow the Toyota to a crawl along the brush to identify the distinguishing features of common and special sightings as we bounced in our seats searching for wildlife.
What follows is an alphabetized compilation of birds I captured when possible–that would gratify Audubon and the birders, and delight many bird brains:
No words, just a glimpse of beauty that is Okavango Delta in the center of Botswana.
Much of Cape Town radiates with modern appeal, brandishing its abundance of fashionable and trendy shops, galleries, cafes, restaurants, and hotels throughout the city. However, the crossroads where residents and tourists travel to find it all is Cape Town’s waterfront.
Leah and I took a walk through the waterfront district to see for ourselves, and found that one day was not enough to cover it all.
The heartbeat of the waterfront is the Victoria and Albert Wharf, where the city meets the sea.
Grounded by a two-story mall, the Victoria Wharf Shopping Centre bustles with 450 retail stores, and over 80 restaurants and eateries.
Beyond a swinging bridge and a capsule of specialty malls stands the Clock Tower, where a ferry (calm seas and weather permittting) awaits to shuttle intrepid visitors to Robben Island…
the one-time prison of Nelson Mandela from 1964 to 1982, but now a museum and World Heritage site. Unfortunately, high swells prevented us from visiting.
His importance to the city and country cannot be underestimated, as his name and face is omnipresent throughout the region.
Visible from all points of the city, and looming over the wharf is Table Mountain,
accessible by cable car, with commanding views of the city below. Unfortunately, Leah and I never made it to the top because of gusting winds at the time.
Continuing south, we mounted a set of stairs…
directing us to the Silo District, where a 1920s grain silo…
has been repurposed into the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary African Art,
having opened on September 2017, and boasting the world’s largest collection of African art.
The building also houses the Silo Hotel, occupying the top six floors within the one-time grain elevator. Daily rates during low season range from $900 for a luxury room to $5000 for a 1-Bedroom Penthouse. Leah and I thought we’d have a look around.
The elevator carried us to reception on the sixth floor, where we spoke to an attendant who eagerly escorted us to the eleventh floor open-air restaurant, lounge and pool.
Having missed out on a Table Mountain overlook because of weather, our surrounding views of the stadium,
the ship terminal,
and the courtyard below were spectacular, and made up for our disappointment.
Once back on earth, we headed past the shipyards…
and along the canal…
to Battery Park, a greenspace where families gather to skate and picnic.
After reaching City Hall in the distance, we doubled back to the waterfront, eager to continue the next part of our journey in search of wild animals.
Much more to follow…
At Boulders Beach, on False Bay along the Cape Peninsula of South Africa, within Table Mountain National Park…
stands a boardwalk that showcases a free-roaming colony of African penguins.
When they are not busy nesting,
or caring for their hatchlings…
they are preening,
and standing watch…
over the rookery.
Some African penguins may gather in small groups before setting off to hunt for fish,
while others are content to surf the shoreline,
always wary of hungry seals…
who would easily prey on unsuspecting penguins, ready to rip open their bellies for the fish they have recently swallowed.
Ahh, the abbreviated life of an African penguin…