Collected Moments of Survival

  The Quiet Council Collected Moments of Survival There is a particular stillness that settles over the Auob River at dawn. Not silence—but a presence. A sense that something ancient is unfolding just beyond the reach of sound. It was there, in the dry riverbed of the Auob River , that I came across them—four giraffe standing together in quiet formation. Not scattered, not feeding, not moving on. Simply… gathered. A council. This work, The Quiet Council , is my attempt to capture that moment. A fleeting alignment of grace, awareness, and survival. The Giraffe of the Kgalagadi The giraffe found in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park are the Angolan giraffe ( Giraffa giraffa angolensis ), a subspecies uniquely adapted to the arid conditions of this stark and beautiful landscape. They were reintroduced to the park in the late 1990s , after having disappeared from the region decades earlier. Since then, they have not only survived—they have quietly reclaimed their place. Today, they are...

I have now been in the Kalahari for three weeks and sadly I have not done one blog entry, despite the fact that every day there is something new to show.  This has to stop and from now there will be more about my travels each week. I'll just jump in with yesterday but may end up reflecting a little more on days gone by.  Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park is a very different kind of game viewing experience. Distances are long and the roads are not always the best in the world but each and every day there is something else. Yesterday, despite the fact that I did not see too many animals of the feline persuasion that I could photograph there were many other opportunities. And the oddest one so far, was the black back jackal. We came upon 5 individuals who were looking a little testy with each other. After much looking through binoculars and camera lenses I finally worked out what the reason was for the gathering. There was a bundle of fur lying under a tree. Despite desperately trying...

October in the Kalahari is hot. Not just mildly hot, it is scorching. As such tents and other accommodation without air conditioning are stifling by midday. The only option is to find a spot in some sort of shade, make sure the little bit of air movement can catch you and then sit still. My plan is to wet my kikoi (a wonderful piece of cloth bought in Zimbabwe some years ago), take a bottle of water that I have frozen in my equally wonderful Engel fridge, place the bottle on my lap, throw the wet kikoi over my head and wait for the heat of the midday sun to pass.  Yellow Mongoose and Cape Cobra The Mongoose stays just out of reach of the Cobra Sometimes, through some divine intervention, I manage to nod off and the time passes quickly. Today I am rudely awakened not only by the strident screeching of some starlings but by some urgent words. “If you want some shots you better get up fast”. The kikoi gets thrown to one side and without thinking I grab my camera. And then ...

Being ready should be the watch word for every wildlife photographer out there. Seasoned photographers (such as myself) know that at any moment anything can happen and as such a photographer will sit with camera at the ready, on standby mode while periodically changing the camera settings as the light changes. However, Murphy is always occupying the seat next to yours and you are lulled into complacency. Whenever conditions are such that you know that any self-respecting big cat will be tucked away into the deepest thicket they can find to get away from the searing heat of a Kalahari November day, that lethargic complacency will be at its most prevalent. And then it happens! Three subadult cheetah appear suddenly from nowhere, the light is atrociously bright, the heat waves are making a mockery of the lens stabilisation system and of course no super telephoto lens will have (or need to have) a polariser or ND filter so as to reduce the reflections being thrown at it by the gli...

The car shudders and rattles as we pass over each rut in the road and the trailer behind us bumps out of control despite the fact that we are traveling at the prescribed 40km per hour. The road undulates interminably as we make our way from the picnic spot at Dikbaardskolk to the next one almost 50km's away at Kamqua. As we crest yet another dune we reach Vaalpan a descriptively accurate summation of a sandy clearing with a couple of very "vaal" looking water tanks to one side. Scattered about on the pan is a rather large group of Oryx who turn their heads as we gingerly approach trying to minimize the confounded racket that our rattling vehicle is making. The clearly delineated black and white facial markings of the Oryx bear a striking resemblance to Japanese kabuki dancers making the subject a cinch for a statement photograph. As I search through the small herd for a suitable subject in the correct position there is a loud clack-clack directly in front of me ...