rhino wars

Winter has arrived today with a cheeky wind that makes the tin sheets on the roof grate together in a fingernails on blackboards kind of way.  The monkeys were here early testing the metal - they love to thunder up and down on the wriggly tin, rolling and tumbling and falling from the overhanging trees.  It could be fun if we could join them, but its a better way to wake up than some urban alarm clock.

We are in the midst of a rhino war.   These giant gentle creatures are being mown down all around us for the sake of the horns that grow on their noses. What bad luck to have such a thing. They are our living unicorns - whats left of them.  

We are trying everything, but as long as the buyers in China are still able to pay, our rhinos only have the chances we can make for them. Very sadly, as our rhinos are killed, and numbers decrease, the horns on their noses increase in value which makes extinction a very real possibility in our lifetimes.

The other night we were out following a lion down the road. We smelt a funny smell but as the lion had walked right past we didnt think it could be a dead thing. The next day we went back to look. There was a blood spoor. Splashes of blood connected by dribbles of dark red spots.  Then we saw a rhino track smudged into the blood here and there.  We called in the anti poaching team and waited for them, not wanting to disturb any tracks and clues that might be about.

Finally, our worst fears are confirmed. A big bull rhino carcass lay in a clearing - his horn roughly hacked off.  There is little dignity in death. The smell of the decaying process is overwhelming. I wanted to go and lay flowers on the body - like the Indians do when elephants are hit by trains. But we cannot interfere with the crime scene. I think I have been in mourning the past week for the senseless avaricious nature of this death and the suffering and trauma that preceeded it. 

Oh, I wasnt going to talk about the rhino issue - but now I have.

(Rhino horn is made of compressed hair like structures containing keratin and protein. There is a dense inner core of calcium and melanin similar to horses hooves or birds beaks. Mineral content varies according to range and diet.  Scientific research has proved that rhino horn has no medicinal properties)

happy mothers day

Betty Jeanne Thraves  1922-1982

happy mothers day

♥

the good that elephants do

Given that we have reduced elephant habitat to tracts of land that cannot be used for agriculture - either arable or livestock; generally speaking of course. Most of the game reserves where elephants are allowed to live today are in semi desert terrain and often on international borders;  Given the choice, elephants prefer to eat grass, but in these areas, grass is often a very seasonal commodity, so for the rest of the year they make do with the rough bark of hardwood trees.  This often makes them unpopular with people who love trees - but elephants need to eat something after all.

And woebetide the elephant if he happens to stray out of his designated area in search of something more palatable to eat, or cleaner fresher water.  He instantly becomes labelled a 'rogue' elephant; or a 'rampaging' elephant - none of which he truly understands, but makes his reception very hostile and is usually life threatening.His life could depend on semantics in this way.

However, from a non scientific standpoint and in defense of elephants, what some see as destruction, is often a very vital contribution to the health of their environment.  First of all they have a very vast digestion, and their droppings are muffin shaped balls of instant manure.  The seeds they eat receive the required heat treatment in their journey through the elephants digestive system, to enable them to germinate successfully on return to the ground.

Elephants pull down branches of leaves from tall trees, in order to browse the furthest leaves.  This enables smaller browse dependent species to access food sources even during the driest months.

Young elephants strip the bark from trees, often ring barking them, during seasons when the sap is rising. This could be seen as a bad thing, as the tree usually dies.  But it creates clearings in a forest, and prevents the forest from becoming too dense. it also creates habitats for birds and insects, and small tree dwelling animals. Not to mention firewood for human campfires.

Big bull elephants push down trees. Sometimes this is interpreted as a show of strength, or a feeding requirement; but it also has the benefits of making fresh leaves available to smaller browse dependent animals; it creates habitat for ground birds and small predators, and often assists with preventing soil erosion.  Have you noticed how often the tree happens to fall across a bush road?

Elephants make wide clear paths that meander through their range, linking waterholes. If you are lost and thirsty, follow an elephant path to water - but keep your eyes and ears open!

A herd of elephants make less noise travelling through a forest, than one or two people.

At a river crossing, we once saw fish using the underwater elephant tracks as nesting sites. Each round indentation had a resident parent fish guarding their eggs.

I am sure there are a million more ways that elephants contribute to environmental health within their range states, but these are the first few that spring to mind. I also know it is extremely good for our heart and soul to spend time with elephants when they are relaxed and feeding or travelling on long ancient paths.   

Of all footprints
That of the elephant is supreme.
Of all mindfulness meditations
That on death is supreme.
         — The Buddha

out of the blue

After my brief preoccupation with the colour red, and all things bright and beautiful, I became immersed in the colour blue.  A deep dark blue. I also hurt my back on a stubborn horse. This morning I woke up and decided there was quite enough of that, and today my inner child was needing attention. It was a beautiful clear sunny winters day.  We drove into the reserve. The impala rams have been behaving like idiots for the past few days. Furiously chasing each other around the place - making that sound like tearing up cardboard, and that weird grunting rutting bark. They have been clashing heads and acting like they own the place - all in an effort to impress the females and gather the biggest harem of all.  The females largely carry on grazing and moving from sun to shade and back again - occasionally taking off with a start if one of the clashes gets too close.  They are so vulnerable to super predators when they are like this as they are completely distracted with their own importance, and the task at hand. Plus they are making these weird noises that carry for miles.  Ironically the grunting rutting noise even sounds remotely like a leopard.

So there was an air of 'I told you so' when we came across a strong drag mark crossing the sand track this morning. It was pointed out to me how we could see the marks in the sand where the impala horns had bounced along, although the weight of the body had swept away the leopard tracks in all but a very few places.  We climbed down from the vehicle to follow the drag mark on foot, into the mopane forest.  Here and there we lost the track as it went through a gully, or grassy area, but quickly picked it up again on the other side. This leopard was a mighty strong animal. It dragged the heavy prey item between the trees, and into the long grass at the base of the koppies, without even stopping to eat.  There was no trace of grassy stomach contents or blood, only the smooth drag mark, and the marks made by the horns alongside. We went deeper into the forest, ducking under thorn branches, and stepping over rocks and logs.  Here in a flattened grassy glade we found the tail of the impala.  Around the corner, hidden away in a patch of long grass, the carcass of the lost ram.

The leopard had not had much time for feeding, so we guessed we were being watched - although it was impossible to see from where.  One little agitated bird call might have been a clue. Otherwise the blue sky and bright sunlight masked all secrets.  We retraced our steps, and went home to fetch the camera trap. Returning quickly we tied the impala ram to the nearest tree, so that the leopard would not drag it away. And we set up our antiquated camera trap overlooking the scene.  With luck, when the leopard returns, he will trigger the infra red sensor and we will be able to record his presence in digital images.

Leopards are masters of camouflage, and it is said you only see them when they decide to show themselves. You can hardly ever take them by surprise. Perhaps he was watching us from the long grass.

Seeing Red

carmine bee eater

I saw red yesterday. The colour red.  A deep luscious red with a hint of blue to give it depth. Not as dark as blood, nor as orange as a postbox, it was the kind of red you want to have around - to share the landscape with it. It made me thankful that i could see that red. 

Appreciating the ability to see that red, made me thankful for blue, ocean blue, cornflower blue, warm blue and cold blue. Then the floodgates opened and i thought of all the beauty in the world. I wondered how much time i had left to see it and didn't want to miss a jot. Sorry if that sounds morbid but the edges are already getting a bit blurred.

This world of ours is full of crazy extravagant beauty that defies the human imagination. But visuals are for beginners i guess. Beyond that lie smells, touches, sounds and extra sensory sensations.

Apart from that deeply philosophical moment in the parking lot yesterday, I caught three red toads in the house last night. Not the luscious red kind, more a burnt umber colour, but they squeaked indignantly as i delivered them to the great outdoors.

The full moon rose golden red through the trees last night.  A clear round orb unsoftened by summer haze.  We are heading into winter, as we celebrate Easter and the season of rebirth.

the cobra and the red toad

We have been travelling and static, busy and idle, social and solitary, content, conflicted and then contemplative, and lo the time passes.  There is a whisper of winter in the air although we have had some late summer showers.  The tadpoles in the waterholes have all become little active frogs and somehow manage to find their way into our house at night.  I spend a good hour every evening trying to catch them and put them out side, feeling a little like the Flintstones ejecting that dinosaur to no avail.

But my motivation is snakes.  They follow the trails of the happy little frogs, and I am not mad about snakes in the house - especially at night.

So yesterday there was a mozambique spitting cobra in the kitchen. We didnt have time to catch it as we had to go out, but we left all the doors open and hoped it would find its own way. When we got back, there it was on the stoep.  It had obviously zapped a red toad who was lying there with one leg sticking out.  The snake moved away when i came outside but soon came back to claim its kill.

There is something grotesquely fascinating about watching a snake swallow a prey item that is way way bigger than its own head. So i thought i would share a few pictures with you.  Not all the pictures are sharp - sorry - but I hope you can see enough to get the story.  The cobra is about 1 meter long.

(Not for the squeamish)

approaching the problem

the snakes body is very active at this point, and the tip of his tail keeps seeking for cracks and crevices in the wall behind

however sideways was never going to work

manouvering around to a more manageable position

head first and the swallowing begins; the snakes body is more calm now

down the hatch all the way to the pelvic region

the last view of the toes before the licking of lips commences

bon appetit!

Sunday

python vine and termite mound

Sunday afternoon. The heavy heat is broken at last by the pounding strength of an electrical storm. The air is cool and fresh and water lies in pools on the ground reflecting a grey sky.  The air is now pungent with smells - ozone rich, with a hint of damp soil and kraal manure. Green leaves pump out oxygen and the giraffe resume browsing on the hebaclada bushes.  During the storm they stood straight up. I wondered if they were ever struck by lightening.  Ostriches, I know, tend to sit down and lay their long necks on the ground during a lightening storm.

The storm has moved on accross lake Zibidianja towards the spillway.  Distant crumping sounds trail in its wake.  The rain was gentle this time when it came. It was calming, cooling, soporific. It made me want to lie down and snooze. So instead I am making tea, eating a shortbread biscuit (from the stash reserved for visitors) and thinking about the storm. This too shall pass - the squashing heat, the turgid air, the lazy bones - and it has.

this acacia tree has been visited over the years by elephants

particularly the young elephants that like to eat the bark

it reminds me of those lovely drawings by Arthur Rackham entwining tree spirits and fantastic creatures

an imagination running free

sunday parkoff