The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch,. 15: Sometimes Comes a Story

             We’re all familiar with the saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words.”   I think we can agree with that.

            Then, there’s the saying that.  “A photo should tell a story.”   That one’s a little more difficult, and I don’t always agree with it.   Sometimes a photo is just a photo, and sometimes a story takes more than one photo to tell.

            It’s our last full day at Dinaka Lodge and Dinaka Game Reserve, so let’s see which photos tell stories and which do not.

 

 

            Yes, this photo tells a story, but you had to have been there to understand it.   See the bonfire in the firepit?   That’s the story.   It’s 5:40 A.M. in the morning, and the only time it’s cool enough to have a fire.

            We have been plagued with overcast skies on most days, which interfere with photography and make vivid photos difficult.

            On the other hand, we have been blessed with overcast skies on most days, which keeps the temperatures out of the 90s Fahrenheit.   Both sides of the coin.

 

    After breakfast, we load up in the Land Cruisers and head into the semi-arid trails of Dinaka Game Reserve.   Within thirty minutes, we find lions.   Two of them, resting in the shade of a tree.

    The story takes its time in forming.   These are young lions, perhaps not two years old yet.   Our guides says the rest of the pride is nearby, but we never see them.

To me, young male lions look as if they are bewildered, like they know some change is coming, but haven't yet a clue as to what that might be.

Then again, sometimes they just look clueless.

This young male is showing signs of the dark manes that mark the Kalahari lions.

His sibling shows her face from behind the tree.

Marg asks the driver to pull forward so we can see more of her.

And then, after gazing at us for a a few minutes, the story:

Cats will be cats.

And then we once again encounter a male white rhino.   Yes, he is dark gray like all rhinos.  The name "white" comes from the mistranslation of the Africaans word "wyd," which means wide and refers to the large square mouth  of the animal.

He owns the road and lets us know it.

We back up, around a corner.   He follows.

Once he determines that we acknowledge our secondary place on his road, he turns his backside and wanders off down his road.

A short time later, our second pride of lions comes into view.   At first is a young male. with that bewildered look I mentioned earlier.

He watches us briefly and heads deeper into the brush.

"A cowardly lion," we say, and laugh.   Our guide corrects us.   This young boy was recently run off from his pride.   He is hanging around some lionesses for company, protection, and in the hope that they will let him feed one any prey they gain.

He watches from deep in the brush.   Perhaps someday he will take charge of this new pride.   Kalahari lions are more slender than other lions, an adaptation to their semi-desert living conditions.    They seldom need water as they contain liquids from eating prey.

Below is a marked weaver and the nest he is working on.   It still needs a long tunnel entrance.

Below is the female building inspector.

She will inspect the nest.   If she approves, she will enter it and pay her eggs.   If not, the male will build another nest.

Here's another type of weaver, the white-browed sparrow weaver.   No story, just another weaver.

The only story below of the gemsbok, a type of oryx, his that they stood still long enough for photos.

            

We drove through a cloud of these white butterflies.   One landed on the console between our seats.   Several of us had been trying to get photos of them and I figured this was as good a chance as any, so I pulled out my iPhone and began trying.   I'll spare you all the bad photos, but the first.

It was a Pioneed Caper White, aka Brown-veined White. 

It stayed there for about ten minutes as we drove the rough trails in the reserve.   I commented that as soon as we stop, it will fly away.

And it did, but only as far as my short sleeve.

            

Where, finally!!!

Story below?   Somewhat.   This crimson-breasted shrike has something fuzzy on its bill.

So, that's where it comes from.

It's Robbin insects from the silky webs.

Burchell's zebra.  Identified by the brown lines between the stripes.

Burchell's zebra with foal.

No story below, just some Greater  kudu behavior.   They will lower their horns like this when passing through thick brush.   Why it did it when crossing a road, I have no idea.

And back to the rhino road block.   He really is possessive of his road.

This evening, we gathered around the fire pit for farewell songs by the staff. 

And after dinner, we were escorted to our tents for the final time.

In Memory of Craig

Word is circling the globe today as news comes of the death of one of the last great tusker elephants, an iconic bull known as Craig.

When I first met Craig in 2022, Amboseli National Park in Kenya was deep in the clutches of a devastating drought.  Driving through the park in our Toyota Land Cruisers with knowledgeable guides at the wheel, we saw carcass after carcass of animals that perished for lack of feed.

There was water, to be sure, but no rain to drench the arid savannah and bring forth the life-sustaining plants and trees that so many herbivores depended on.

We had hopes of seeing Craig, a bull elephant renowned for his long tusks.   He was then in his 50s and in poor condition because of the drought.  Not only was feed scarce, but Craig was nearing the end of his natural life span because he was running out of teeth.

Elephants have 26 teeth:   the ivory tusks (modified incisors)  are the most prominent.   Then, 12 premolars and 12 molars.

Unlike humans, elephants continually grow molars, six sets of them.   They start with four.   As they are worn down from grinding food, the next molar in line moves forward, and another molar erupts, and so on, until the aged elephant has gone through six sets.

That is the stage where Craig was when I saw him.   It pained me to see him grinding dead limbs, searching endlessly for the fibrous nutrition that would sustain him.

Craig undoubtedly died because his last set of molars was worn down.

It is a blessing to know he died a natural death, rather than to have been killed for his immense tusks.   Each one was estimated to weigh 100 lbs.   Craig was one of the few remaining tuskers on earth.  He was protected 24 hours a day from poachers by the Kenya Wildlife Service, the Big Life Foundation, the Amboseli Trust for Elephants, and Maasai community rangers.

I shot this video of Craig and not until I was able to review it,  did I realize what a treasure I had.  Craig passed  my vehicle and was so close I could have reached out and touched him.

Up ahead, my friend Marg Wood was on the ground, pointing her camera up to get the great shots of Craig.   As the elephant neared her, it paused for a long time as Marg continued to shoot, as if knowing-- or perhaps remembering--the human he'd met a few months before.

Then, raising its trunk as if in salute, it moved into a nearby bush to continue browsing.   

That interaction between the two grabbed my heart.  I think it is indicative of the recognition each felt for the other--recognition, kindness, and respect.

A short time later, we moved away, and our breakfast was set out of the hoods of the Land Cruisers.   Craig joined us at a distance, and his company was appreciated. 

Below are two links to more photos and info about Craig from my stories in 2022.

https://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/2025/08/world-elephant-day.html#comment-form

 

https://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/search/label/Craig

A Cup o' Kindness to Share With You

    An Alaskan friend who winters in the Southwest recently wrote on his blog that he missed a customary Monday afternoon outing with a resident in his villa, and just this week undertook that activity again.   That it should occur during the week when one year ends and another begins, is especially poignant.

    Many of us, as we age, neglect to pursue such customs, whether it be by failing health, or being too busy, or sometimes, by unintentionally distancing ourselves, preferring instead to remain at home alone.

    New Year’s Eve is a time of reminiscing, of remembering long friendships, and of those who have left us forever.   

    As the lyrics go, “Should auld acquaintances be forgot…”, a paean to nostalgia, of cherishing friendships, and symbolizing life’s journey.   

     Auld Lang Syne feels like a sad song, but only because it is deeply nostalgic and loving.

    To you on this occasion, I offer to share with you “a cup o’ kindness”, be it with friends or while dancing in the arms of one you love. 

 

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch: 14: A Mouse Prompts a Deep Philosophical Dive

            (NOTE:  Click on one photo to bring up a filmstrip which you can then scroll through to see the photos full screen.)

The story comes first this time, followed by the photos.

              I’m walking along the beautiful boardwalk at Dinaka Lodge to where the Toyota Land Cruisers are parked and ready for our late afternoon game drive.   

            I’m the first one, as the others are still in the main lodge, finishing their coffee and snacks, or gathering their gear.   Once again, I’m wondering about the kind of wood, the difficulty of maintenance, and so on, of the boardwalk.

            I see something small and white next to the boardwalk ahead, and my first thought is a crumpled wad of paper.  Not litter in this camp, I think.   It’s far too clean.

            Then I realize it’s something dead, something like a rodent.   White rat?  Maybe, but hard to tell as it is literally paws up.   About the size of an Alaskan red-tailed squirrel, its body about six inches long.  Pretty, though.   A beautiful white..   I think I see some light cinnamon colors on the head.

            Our guide, Booth, approaches, and I nod at the rodent to point it out to him.

            “Hey, little buddy.   What happened?” he says.

            I am dumbstruck, and all my questions about the boardwalk and even the identity of the little rodent evaporate.  Dumbstruck at Booth’s words, his tone of voice, and his obvious empathy for the little critter.   I sense that I have just seen the measure of this man. And he is admirable.

            He steps off the boardwalk and uses a dried branch to move it to a spot beneath a bush, into some dried leaves.

            “We have owls,” he says.   I take that to mean an owl will soon have a meal.   Perhaps it was an owl that dropped it beside the boardwalk. *

             I’ve met many African guides in my previous six trips to Africa.   The guides I remember most are the ones who indicated their heartfelt love for the animals they showed us.   To some, guiding is a job that pays better than most in their country.  To others, it is much, much more, an avocation rather than a vocation.

            I think of a quote often attributed to the novelist and playwright Alexander Dumas, who said, “We always leave a piece of ourselves in the people we meet, and take a piece of them with us.”   I extrapolate that to include everything—people, places, birds, animals.   

This quote from the Internet expresses my ever-evolving philosophy better than I can:     

“The core idea … is that human interaction and experience are a two-way street, involving a profound exchange. We are fundamentally shaped by our observations and relationships, while our own actions and presence leave a lasting impact on our surroundings and the people in our lives.”

 

A beautiful egg sac on an orb weaver spider led to less repulsion on my part and greater understanding of spiders, to the point now where, if I find a spider in my bathroom sink, I understand it is thirsty.   I wet a Q-tip and hold it close to the spider, and sure enough, it lunges at the swab and drinks.

All I know for certain is that the closer I am to nature, the better off I am.

 

As I sit here writing this, late in the evening when truth rises, I think of a thirsty spider.

 

Of a lioness who looked me right in the eyes and, perhaps sensing my silent pleas, moved her ten-day-old cub into the only open spot where I could see her. 

 

Of little birds that land on my hands for peanuts.

 I  think of that little white mouse and of Booth, and of his kind and gentle words.

 

 

These are the intimate connections with nature that I treasure and will always remember.  I feel they make me a better person.

 

 

So as to not break the spell, here are some photos of our interactions with wildlife this day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Booth, our guide, is pouring a shot of Amarula liqueur on ice for me at our Sundowner break.   It is much like Bailey's liquor.  The liqueur is fermented from the fruit of a Marula tree, and that fruit is a favorite of elephants and baboons.  I have seen photos of very tipsy elephants.     For our group, it is customary to salute our travels with a bit of Amarula.

Some Gemsbok oryx finally stand still.

The amazing kori bnustard.   It is courting a nearby female, as revealed by the lovely gray neck feathers all puffed up.   Male bustards stand about 4-1/2 ft. high, have a wingspan of 9 ft., and weigh about 44 lbs.  Females are smaller.

 

A Red Hartebeest photo showcasing its distinctive horns.

 

 

 

The fascinating Northern Black Korhaan has one of the loudest cries of all the birds I've heard.

 The korhaan sound from You Tube:

Northern black korhaan

Yellow-billed hornbill.

These two cheetah brothers seemed to care little about our presence.   All they wanted to do was sleep.   Male siblings often form coalitions after leaving their mother, while the females stay longer.

Beautiful, graceful cheetah.

Scaly lizard

Ant-eating chat.

Springbok and calf.   

Springboks.  Those are shadows from branches on their back.

Steenbok

*  My research suggests the ID of the mouse is a Southern multimammate mouse.   It is often referred to as the link between a mouse and a rat.   Its body length is about 6 inches.

  

https://crittery.co.uk/species-list/multimammate-mice