The 2022 Africa Journals, Chapter 12: Last Day at Amboseli National Park

 

Chapter 12:

Last Day at Amboseli National Park

All that the sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild."

--John Muir

 

In my decades of driving in Alaska, I have developed a truism about Alaskan moose.   Simply put, it is:   No matter what side of the road a moose is on when you approach, it will  want to be on the other side.   And, it will act upon that urge with alacrity.

It has been proven true time and again with narrow misses.   I have never hit a moose but I had one run into my vehicle.   Another story, another time.

Now on my sixth trip to Africa, I suspect the same truism might apply to zebras and wildebeest.

A tree full of vultures.

Today is our last full day at Amboseli National Park in Kenya.   Tomorrow, we will travel east to Tsavo National Park for four nights at Finch Hatton's lodge.

But today, we are going to the lake by the Amboseli airstrip where life teems in and around the water.

Yellow-billed pelican..

We spot a kori bustard with Mt. Kilimanjaro in the background.   I have been trying to get photos of every animal I see with the mountain, but as we cannot get out of the vehicle to compose our photos or walk closer to those animals, what I get is one of those "ptarmigan in a snowstorm" photos.   The kind where the kori bustard is lost in the brush.

Look for the white new of the bird just off lower right center.

I already wrote about the screaming crowned lapwing and the five cheetahs with the ensuing traffic jam, so we can skip retelling that.

Plus, you saw photos of the elephant road block.   No point in repeating all of those.

But right after the elephants, we see a lion come out of the brush and approach what looks like a newly-deceased wildebeest, no doubt another casualty of the drought savaging this area.

Yes, the wildebeest is dead.   The posture is a certain indicator.

This current drought, which started in 2016, is most likely the worst in a number of years for Eastern Africa.   Some blame it on climate change although historical records indicate a 20-year drought that began in the 1820s is, so far, the worst drought in the last 200 years.   Lake Baringo, with a surface area of about 65 square miles and a depth of eight feet, dried up completely.

Continuous meteorological records have been kept only since 1870, so all data before that, except for the 1820-1830 event, is not available, except through anecdotal observations. 

It's always fun to see animals walking in a straight line.

Another severe drought occurred in the 1900s.

Who knows, really, what causes these droughts?    However, current opinions agree this drought is the worst in recent times  and it isn't over yet.

Eventually we reach the lake and the marshy area near it.   

We see a lesser flamingo missing a foot.   It seems to be doing okay.

There are birds of all varieties everywhere.    A breeze  has rippled the surface the large lake so the reflection photos we hoped for are not to be.

As we drive along, I notice a number of zebra sand wildebeest grazing along the side of the road.   A few second later, off they go!

"Stampede," I cry.   Across the road in front of us they gallop until they are all across and then they stop and go back to gazing as if nothing happened   Just like moose, I think to myself.

Zebras and wildebeest have something of a symbiotic relationship.   Some scientists think the zebras hang out with the wildebeest because predators are more likely to focus on the slower wildebeest.      (Reminds me of an old joke about always having someone slower with you if you're in bear country.)

Zebras will graze on taller grasses while the wildebeest eat the more tender grasses closer to the ground, so in that way they are agreeable grazers.

There's another reason.   Wildebeest and zebras combine to offer an excellent security system. Wildebeest have a superior sense of smell and hearing, while zebras contribute acute eyesight to warn of predators.   The smaller antelope like impalas will often be found near them, and the impala early warnings alert  the zebra and wildebeest of danger.

There is no doubt that of the two, the zebras are the most intelligent and have a keen memory.   This is essential during the annual migrations because zebra know where the safest routes are, while the sometimes aimless wildebeest just wander if there aren't zebra to lead the way.

We come upon a Goliath heron and I think of Randy who is in another vehicle and on his first trip to Africa.  I had to make five trips just to see one and six to photograph it.

Eye on the sky apparently.

Gray heron

Squacco heron

We go to the airstrip for a picnic breakfast and I notice a pied crow's nest on the communications tower.

Apparently the eggs haven't hatched or the babies are just hatchlings, because I never see any movement in the nest.

We start to head back and look what we find right alongside the road!   A boa has caught a coot and is doing what boas do.

A poor photo of the only malachite kingfisher I see, and I look at every stream crossing.

This is a glossy ibis.   I lightened the bird's body so you can see the colors that are visible when sunlight hits the dark feathers.

African jacana

Back at camp, the usual suspects are at the waterhole

A warthog mows the lawn.

This elephant is in its favorite spot in the waterhole.

In the late afternoon, we enter Amboseli National Park through the Kimana Gate for the last time.   We opt to go to the waterhole as it is the close.

The common waterbucks are  in their usual places and a male poses nicely.

We find a troop of baboons heading for the waterhole and follow along.

This female is carrying her baby under her belly while another infant hops alongside her.

The left hand of a baboon.   The hind "paws" are actually called feet.

Mourning doves at the waterhole.

The sun has set and it's almost dark as we drive through the Tawi Conservancy toward camp.   And then, we are treated to several gerenuk stags sparring.  My photos are lousy due to the low light and only a few could be rescued enough to make out what was happening.

Behind us, in the park, scattered rain showers fall on the Aird land.

There will be no game drive tomorrow because we are leaving after daylight for the long drive to Tsavo National Park and the Finch Hattons Lodge.   But, we have a stop to make along the way.

Now, I have packing to do.   Instead of putting our packed bags out on the deck in the morning to make it easier for the porters, they will be left in the tent with all the tent zippers closed and the pulls locked with a small carabiner.

Those clever little vervets, you know.

The 2022 Africa Journals, Ch. 11: The Elephant and the Irony

 Chapter 11:

The Elephant and the Irony

"Of all African animals, the elephant is the most difficult for man to live with, yet its passing--if this must come--seems the most tragic of all."-Peter Matthiessen, author of "The Tree Where Man was Born"

An elephant died today.

While we were eating a hearty breakfast nearby, the young female lay down on her side and took her last breaths with her trunk thrown up between her tusks.  Most likely she died of starvation brought about by this horrid drought that has already killed so many.

I first saw her when we stopped to take photos of a zebra using a rock monument to scratch its hide.   That's unusual, I thought about the elephant, that she would stay on her side that long.

We drove about a quarter mile away to the Amboseli NP airstrip terminal and the drivers set out tables and chairs.

They used a colorful Maasai blanket as a tablecloth and laid out the breakfast tins.  As usual, the tins contain far  too much food for us, so we began stacking uneaten food on the lid of a tin.   In went the uneaten halves of sandwiches, fried sausages, pastries and muffins, bananas, apples, pancakes and hard mints.

L-R:   Marg, Virginia, camera-shy Shelly, and Cory.   The pile of uneaten food is in front of Cory.

I have never seen a square toilet before.   It is in the terminal restroom.

When we finish and drive out the same way, the elephant is still down.   I comment that it must be dead and the driver says, "Yes.   She was standing when I first saw her and I watched her go down."

My photos, shot before and after breakfast, show her with her trunk up between her tusks and its position did not change.

The irony assaults me.   That a precious beast would die of starvation while we were setting aside uneaten food was too much.   The death of this one elephant affects me more than the dozens and dozens of carcasses strewn across the grassland savannah--but a savannah with no grass.

There is another irony.  We asked to be brought back to this area today, our last full day at Tawi Lodge and Amboseli NP,  because it is teeming with life both in and around the lake.

We were saturated with death and wanted so much to see life.

And yet, an elephant died of starvation while we satiated ourselves with an abundance of food.

This evening, we sat around the fire at Tawi Lodge.   I thought about the elephant that died today.   I drank a silent toast to her.