The Kenya Journals, Ch 8: Night and Light on the Masai Mara

Chapter Eight:

Night and Light on the Masai Mara

If we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

If we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

f we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

e were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

If we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

If we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land. Within a few months. E. O. Wilson
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/eowilson456791.html?src=t_insects

Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.-- Horace Mann

If we were to wipe out insects alone on this planet, the rest of life and humanity with it would mostly disappear from the land.   Within a few months.  --E.O. Wilson



After dinner, Mary and I walk back to our tent to spend our first night at Mara Intrepids camp.    It’s fully dark but the flagstone walks are subtly lighted and, because the camp is surrounded by an electric fence, there’s little danger of running into a dangerous animal.

When we reach the tent, I can tell that the room attendant had been here.   The doormat is leaned against the tent bottom where three zippers come together and a deck side table is pushed against the mat.  It all seems meant to keep something out of the tent, but I don’t know what.

I notice a number of insects on the tent canvas and the canvas on the two deck chairs.   I brush a few aside as I unzip the door.   A particularly huge one is left in peace.

Yes, the attendant has been here.   He has turned down the duvets and draped the mosquito netting around the beds.

Mary and I have work to do.   We need to download our camera memory cards onto two external hard drives.   It’s a safety measure, designed to prevent total losses of photos.  The others often format (erase)  their memory cards after downloading so they can reuse the cards.   I don’t.   I don’t trust my technology skills enough to do that, so I leave the photos on the cards.   It means buying lots and lots of cards.

Mary sets up her computer in an alcove at the head of her bed.

I go to set up my computer on a desk at the front of the tent and stop in awe.

There are dozens of insects of many descriptions crawling across the desk and especially in the warm spot on the base of the lamp.

I swallow and consider my options.   I can:   A) Be squeamish, freak out, and head back to Alaska post haste, or  B)  deal with it.   I decide there is really only one, so I remind myself that “this is Africa (TIA),” and gingerly continue.   What bothers me the most are the tiny pale ones that look frighteningly like lice.

When I finish, I look for a way to turn off the lamp, but there is no switch.   Finally, I unplug it and thus begins three days of lamp frustration.  Not until the next to final night will I discover how to plug in the damn lamp so I don’t have to use a flashlight to find my clothing and gear.  




 

The black one is the type of plug the lamp has.   The white one is the type for the  receptacle on the floor.   I finally just left the white adapter in the floor plug, voila!  light when I wanted it.

Not only is it frustrating, but I can’t see all the insects that have invaded our tent for a warm and safe place to spend the night.

(It’s a trick that requires inserting an object into the top of the three-slot receptacle.  That releases internal spring-loaded covers over the slots.    I admit I did not discover the trick on my own, but had to ask an employee to show me how it worked.   After that, I left an adapter plugged in and the two-pronged lamp plug slipped in easily.)

I pull aside the netting that surrounds the bed and brush a couple bugs off the sheets.   “You can be in the tent if you must, but NOT in my bed,” I say and crawl under the duvet.     My feet touch something very warm.

It’s hot water bottle!    Last thing I need, so I donate it to an appreciative Mary.   She will henceforth have two foot warmers during our stay here.   I avoid the hot spot in the bed until it cools off.

And then Mary and I turn off the bedside lamps and surrender the tent to the nighttime bugs.

 ***

Remembering  how I suffered in South Africa from mosquito bites that drove me crazy for days, I went prepared this time.   Ben's 100 % Deet repellant, a prescription anti-itch ointment, and an EXPENSIVE prescription for Malarone, an anti-malaria med.    Greg told me he's seen one mosquito in Kenya.   I told him I killed it and its companion our first night in Nairobi.   I never saw another mosquito and forgot about applying Ben's.

 ***

In the morning, when it’s still dark, I cannot get the lamp plugged in the floor receptacle, flashlight or no.   It simply won’t go into the socket.   I rely on the flashlight to locate my stuff.  The room attendant has brought bottles of coffee (for Mary) and tea (for me), and a plate with some cookies and set them on my bug-laden desk.   Good thing it’s dark there.

At 6:15 we climb into the safari vehicles and head out.   A security guard lifts the barrier and we drive onto the savannah.   The idea is to be in a good location before the sun comes up, and to photograph the sunrise.

Safari vehicles head out onto the savannah in the early morning.

Then comes what’s known as the “golden hour” or the “magic hour.”  For a short period after sunrise and another short period just before sunset, the rays of the sun must travel farther, because of its angle,  through the earth’s atmosphere, thus affecting the quality of the light. 

Within those long rays, colors near the violet/blue spectrum are scattered but colors in the red/yellow spectrum are not.  Because Kenya is near the equator, that golden period is substantially more brief than locations farther away.

The practical effect on photography is softer shadows and a distinct golden tint to animals and the landscape, especially to the tawny big cats of the Mara.

 And we love it.

Wildebeest, also called a gnu.

Reed buck.

Black-crowned plover.

 

Ground hornbill

Well, I think it's a black-headed heron, but I'm not sure.

White-bellied bustard.

Male and female lions greeting.

Isn't he regal?

Two siblings going to cross the creek.

This cub has a limp and holds back from trying to cross.

Just as he worried, that leg couldn't make the next rock.