Join Me in the Bushveld {Part Two}

Aug 23, 2011 | South Africa, Stories

{This post is continuing from Join Me in the Bushveld (part one) right here.}

We enjoyed a scrumptious brunch back in our holiday accommodation, keeping an eye on a mischievous monkey {who may or may not have stolen Blake’s dummy} keen to hop up onto the balcony and join our feast if no one was looking. We piled back into the car to hurry into the park in hopes of seeing more game…and specifically hoping for a good sighting of some lions.

Once we’re inside the reserve, the Bear scurries into the front passenger seat to sneak candy from a very willing Grandpa. He is finally getting the hang of looking for game, and we’ve been keeping him entertained with books and toys and special treats.

Through thick bush along the roadside, we spot a striking waterbuck who seems to be observing us, just as we are observing her.

We’d seen a hippopotamus in similar scenery that morning. It was special to see this delightfully cumbersome creature on the land instead of in the water. We watched him graze for quite some time, making sure our car wasn’t cutting off his path to the water — they don’t seem to like that too much.

Now a Greater Blue-Eared Glossy Starling is hopping alongside the car. I stare down, so impressed with his magnificent colouring.

We ride along quietly for quite some time and then come down a dip in the road that crosses over a dry river bed. We stop for a moment, half expecting to see something coming along this sandy thoroughfare at any moment. I search the sand for tracks, the Bear now on my lap, us leaning our heads out the window.

“That must be gruffalo poop!” we giggle, and I encourage the Bear to keep his eyes peeled for a gruffalo nearby.

We look up the hill in front of us before the Hubs begins encouraging Mr. Potato Head to begin the grumbling ascent, but this scene awaits us at the top of the hill:

HH moves the car slowly forward and then we’re motionless — watching as elephants are coming out of the bush and crossing the road right in front of us. We suddenly make another discovery: nature has called twice, and the baby has made a poopy which has gone straight through his onesie, his swaddle cloth, and onto Gammy’s nice white blouse. Sigh.

While elephants crack branches and munch munch a few feet away, we’re in the backseat trying to clean up the mess. The juxtaposition of the peaceful scenery of the grazing ellies out the window and the wild scene inside the car make me smile, and Mom and I laugh that this will be a special memory.

Once bottoms are cleaned, clothes are changed (except for poor Mom) and babies are back to smiling, I have the joy of gazing at the gentle giants outside my window. With strength and graceful movements, they knock over a tree and feast on the roots before moving on.

We linger watching the elephants for ages…it feels like such a privilege.

It’s time to start heading for home, so we move on, just pausing to smile at the monkeys now dotting the road in front of us.

We grumble along for a bit longer and then notice a lonely wildebeest. He grazes near the road as the sun begins to fade in the sky.

At last it’s time to hurry along to the gate, our last day of viewing game at the Kruger National Park coming to a close. In a great day-end surprise, Mark spots another leopard — we watch, awestruck that we’ve been privileged with three sightings of the least spotted (though very spotted) of the Big Five in one day. As other cars pull up in hopes of enjoying a good look at what we’ve seen, the leopard slips off into the bush again, and it feels like that special moment was planned just for us.

Up one hill, just before the descent toward the gate, you can see for miles — the Mpumulanga horizon breathtaking with fields and trees, the sturdy profiles of mountains outlined in the distance.

The evening sky mirrors the sky from early that morning. Silhouettes of wiry trees pass outside our window and my heart feels a little heavy as I wonder when I’ll have the privilege of being in this special place again. We approach the gate, stars are beginning to appear, and I find myself praying, “Lord, thank You. Please let us return to this wonderful place again soon.”

xCC

P.S. The Hubs grabbed memory-card-loads of five-star photos during our time in the Kruger, which I have not been sharing here, because they will be up in lights on his website. He has already begun posting a beautiful new photo every day over at Quiver Tree Photo, so please drop by and enjoy!

Join Me in the Bushveld

Aug 22, 2011 | South Africa, Stories

The Southern Cross and her companions are still twinkling around a sliver of a moon as we load up the car for our final trip into the park. We’ve spent two days in the Kruger already and seen game aplenty, but on this last day we’ve decided to race daylight and arrive in time to watch the bush wake up with the sun.

After everything is loaded into the car, HH loads the Bear into my arms, still in pajamas and wrapped in a heavy blanket. He lays a sleepy head against my chest and stares out the window, up at the stars he asked about counting the night before. He comments on a star he sees and we decide to name it the Goeie Môre star, the Afrikaans for Good Morning, {pronounced HWEE-yuh MOR-uh}.

Mr. Potato Head grumbles along the two dozen kilometers to the entrance of the park, and the sky closest to the horizon starts to change from dark into a lighter shade of blue. There’s just enough backlight to watch the silhouettes of the trees along the road, leafless on this cool winter morning, their wiry branches arching in every direction like spiny, weathered hands. We pass a bus that will take people from the outerlying settlements into town for a good day’s work.

The sky that’s touching the land begins a beautiful transition, deep red, then yellow, then orange layers slowly stretch toward the stars above, and I wonder how you pinpoint that beautiful moment when night is actually day again. A few dozen silhouettes surprise me, standing along the roadside, and I realise they must be waiting for the bus we passed a wee way back.

With our entry ticket on the dashboard, the diesel engine hums us through the gates and we peel our eyes, ready to see the animals of Kruger National Park waking up. The baby has fallen asleep in his car seat, the sleepy Bear is now ready for the action to begin.

We drive for a while, trees and tall grass out the window, areas where fire has burned the veld, then dense bush where you wonder if you’ll see anything at all. Suddenly we spot three giraffes enjoying their breakfast, their graceful necks stretching toward the high branches of thinly covered trees. One is eager to cross the road, so we back up when we realise we’re blocking the path he would like to take.

He has a bad knee and is limping a little as he goes. We watch with a little sadness, knowing he’ll be easy prey if a predator takes note of his disability.

After we have a handful of snapshots in our minds and the camera, we move on to look for more. We ride mostly in silence until someone spots an elephant — no, two — no three! And then we’re enjoying a beautiful moment with these ships of the bush.

With the engine turned off we listen as they crack branches with their dextrous trunks — they munch and browse and are always eating. Pictures just can’t capture their magnitude — those graceful tusks protruding on either side of a trunk with deep grey skin. They look weather beaten, even the youngest among them.

The morning slowly drives on and by half past eight we’ve spotted lots of buck, smiled up at more ellies and giraffes, discussed which birds are perching on nearby branches, seen rhinos at a distance and more up close in thick bush. We pause at a rest camp called Skukuza for a leg stretch and a bathroom break, and a glance at the sightings board in hopes of gaining a tip about where the lions that have been eluding us might be seen.

Vervet monkeys bring a bright smile to the Bear’s face, a large troop of baboons causes me to hurriedly roll up my window. A hornbill flies past the window and makes me think of Zazu in the Lion King.

We’ve decided to head home for brunch today, and we choose a route that will keep us inside the park an hour longer before our exit. On that last road on our way out, the Hubs suddenly sees a tail on the side of the road. The striped rings of it make him think of the lemurs we love to talk about, which are only indigenous to Madagascar. Perhaps it’s a wild dog…

No, it’s a leopard.

The least spotted of the Big Five…an animal that one should feel privileged to see in the wild…there he is alongside the road. This strong and majestic cat has a mission in mind, and he decides to cross the road right in front of our car.

The Hubs captures shot after shot after shot, we grownups are silent and watch in awe. Wow. After two minutes of practically holding our breath, as quickly as he appeared, he is gone again. Through straw-coloured grass about as high as the tail he carries in the air, he disappears.

As we start along the road again we excitedly chatter about what a magnificent leopard sighting we’d just enjoyed. They are such silent and majestic creatures…stealthy and strong and beautiful. We grow silent again, mindful of the little one sleeping in my arms, until HH pipes up again:

What is that?

Another leopard is travelling along the road, headed in our direction, and once in a lifetime is now twice. Mom and I are craning our necks from the backseat to see, and there he is, momentarily shaded by a small tree on the roadside. In the heat of the day, on the move.

Another two or three minutes of wide eyes and fast photo fingers, and the big cat is off into the bush again.

By the time we leave the park for brunch, grins are stretching across our faces from ear to ear. This isn’t a zoo — you don’t get directions on where to go to find what you want to see. We feel privileged to have seen so much, and look forward to a second trip into the park after brunch…

xCC