On the last day of October, an effervescence of dragonflies fizzed the shade and skies around camp; an immaculate incandescence, prompting a frenzy of hyperphagy – the glut of softly whirring insects easy prey for hawking kingfisher, bee-eater and roller.
The plaintive keening cry sears the soul – it’s a call to, and a celebration of, the wild and wildness. It’s October 24th, the 55th anniversary of Zambian Independence, and since we are in the bush a day to celebrate
In a world where (almost) everything is instant – instant news, instant noodles, Instagram – to watch and enjoy life at its own unhurried pace is almost novelty, but that’s really what safari and being in the bush is all
Nebulas of dust and grit swirl softly in the breeze – marking a stark contrast to the commotion caused by several tonnes of animal pawing the ground, kicking up galactic clouds in a general fit of the obstreperous. October heat has
Up in the canopy of the acacia, shrouded and spotted by the fallacious shade of arborial twilight, was the female leopard. Up in the mottled murk of branch and leaf, was the baboon, also. There, Mavara, of the golden eyes
I imagine being in the middle of a pod of hippos to be much like an eternal trip to the traffic department, or some other bureaucratic operation of chaotic organization, in the height of a summer afternoon. The reluctantly gaggled