Time doesn’t follow a straight line here. It could have been yesterday that we went on the look-out for the black rhino pair; mother and infant… or maybe the day before. It could have been a couple of hours ago that our World-War II Russian “sardine tank” broke down in the middle of the brush, and we sat alone, Sandra, Sunthar and I, waiting for Michael to return with good news.
So spurts of panic, mark the time. The group headed out for a run this morning near the landing-strip but heat and exhaustion took a toll on me and I was forced to turn back before the others. But just those five minutes alone on the lonely trail through the brush was a little tense. A sudden brush in the bushes…and exhaustion goes out the window, the sprinter in me is born— five feet away, the staff members try their hardest to hide their laughter. “ Jambo
Last night too, long talks with James and Sandra about our favorite novels and we reminisce about Heart of Darkness. Within minutes, the emotions transcend the pages of the novel and into the darkness of the savannah around us. And it starts with a grunt in the far North-East corner of our enclosure, a grunt, a snare, or worse the snicker of an animal. Short, brief and repeated… before our blind eyes, looking out from the dinning table, the creature we think is a monkey transforms into a minotaur.
But these as I said, are spurts of panic. So much has happened already and I truly feel engulfed in beauty… the word savannah, in spanish, savana and a slight change turns it into sabana, or blanket…and that is truly how best to describe what is unfolding before me. One huge blanket or red earth and green velvet at my feet, one huge blanket of stars above my head…oh
