Collected Moments of Survival

The edge has fallen off the summer heat. The early morning air is crisp, almost crunchy. The tips of noses and ears feel the prick of the icy air as we head off. The wind slices it’s way through the vehicle picking at anything loose enough to be whipped up. This has been a very slow visit to the bush without much excitement other than a close encounter with a very disgruntled giant of the bush whose state of musth has him viewing every passer-by with a malcontented eye. Dare to move within close proximity and his trunk lifts menacingly, he unfurls his generous ears flapping them frantically back and forth and he launches his huge frame directly at you ensuring you beat a hasty retreat. A new day in the bush always holds a sense of anticipation exacerbated by the perfect stillness as the sun gently lights the landscape. The morning holds much promise as our noisy vehicle makes its way through the dense bush. As we round a sharp corner on the rough track the much anticipated ...

There is a certain quality to the African sun in midsummer that defies description. A thousand needles being punched simultaneously into skin perhaps comes closest to being accurate. Yet, here I am, sitting in the blazing sun, completely oblivious of the discomfort, on the deck of a lodge, watching keenly as a pride of lions stalks an unwitting warthog family. The elevated view of the deck affords a bird’s eye view of the hunt going down. From the right flank two lionesses move surreptitiously through the long grass, they separate and while one lioness moves directly towards the target the other starts flanking the prey by moving further south. Carefully they crawl through the blades of grass stopping every now and then to monitor the movement of the warthogs who are blissfully unaware that they are being keenly watched. North of the warthog group is the rest of the lion pride lazily spread in the cool shade of the acacia trees. The lionesses continue their hunt, stealthily they move i...