The 2022 Africa Journals, Ch. 5: One Life amid the Heartbreak

Chapter 5:

One Life amid the Heartbreak

 

 

To me, it was one bird’s life I saved

But to the bird, it was everything~

An axiom paraphrased by Gullible

 

 

 

We leave the marsh area and travel the dusty roads of the park toward camp.   Slowly but surely, the occasional carcasses of animals tell the story of what drought means here.   

 

Now entering the fifth year of no substantial rainfall, Amboseli and surrounding areas are stricken.   The village herders, the pastoralists, were given permission to graze their cattle, sheep, and goats within the park because there is no feed outside the boundaries.  That reduces the amount of feed available to wild animals.

 

It is not a matter of “being rich” with large herds.   The Maasai depend on their herds for their very lives.   Traditional Maasai diets consist of milk, blood, and meat from their animals.

 

We drive past the dead animals and see vultures on some of the more recent ones.    Occasionally, there is a carcass left un-scavenged.   There are so many that the vultures,  Marabou storks, eagles, and hyenas that usually clean them up have no need to rush or compete with each other.   There is food a-plenty for all.

In fact, only the vultures, hyenas, and dust devils are thriving in this drought.

Near constant dust devils.

I was astonished when I saw these sacred ibis and storks on a carcass.   Actually, they were after insect larvae.

A spotted hyena brings a wildebeest leg back to the den.
 

Not from this wildebeest however.

A white-backed vulture with two tawny eagles waiting their turn.

 

We are quiet as we continue, slowly getting closer to the park gate and the road to Tawi Lodge where we are booked for four nights.   Ahead of the Land Cruiser I see a bird lying in the middle of the road.  It gets up and moves off to the side.  I see something very small move with it.

 

When we are closer, I recognize a crowned lapwing.   It is screaming holy hell at us.   

 

We stop, take photos, and see two or three chicks scurrying around the dusty plain.  

  

The vehicle moves ahead about 20 to 30 feet before it all comes together in my head.  “Stop!   Back up please.”  Joseph carefully backs up on the left shoulder of the road.

 

“There!   I thought so.   There’s a chick in the middle of the road.”   Huddled and looking completely miserable, the chick doesn’t move.   I cannot believe that lapwing had a nest smack in the middle of the road and that it survived through incubation and hatching.   This is one of the main roads in the park.

 

But, what other explanation is there?   The chick apparently isn’t old enough to walk.

 

When I ask if there is something we can do (knowing that the next vehicle might run over the chick), Joseph gets out of the vehicle and uses a cloth to pick up the chick.   He then places it on the berm off the road.   

 

Joseph is beaming and my heart is bursting.   I am almost in tears, but I am also well aware that predators might spot the chick and move in for a meal.

It is this simple act, that of (hopefully) saving the life of one small bird, that sustains me through the days ahead as I witness the tragedies brought about by drought.

 

Finally, we reach the exit gate of Amboseli National Park.   

We cruise a short distance on a hard-surfaced road and then turn left into the sand and dust onto a bumpy trail.   Soon, after winding through sparse trees, small acacia and other bushes, we arrive at Tawi Lodge.

 

Marg, who arrived minutes before us, comes rushing over and says, “Hurry!   There’s an elephant in the waterhole.”   I reach for one of my bags and she says, "Put that down.   Hurry!"

 

All thoughts of helping unload luggage and bags are forgotten and I quickly follow Marg through the main building toward the waterhole.

 

Sure enough, there at the inlet to the small man-made pond is a large elephant enjoying a refreshing soak in water up to its belly.

 

The path to our cottage.

The waterhole becomes the main attraction at this nice lodge.  Every day different animals come to drink and we photographers, when we aren't in the field, spend a lot of time enjoying them.   We are known to leap up from the dining table and rush out to the waterhole.   We leave our cameras on an empty table in the dining area.

Marg and I are assigned to tent 5.   She surrendered her single room status to make room for me on this trip, for which I am eternally grateful.  The tent is a bit of a walk as the cottages (or tents), are spaced to provide privacy from each other.

 

They are a hybrid--part solid walls and part canvas fronts.

Off we go with our bag-bearers.

Our room.   Mosquito netting is pulled around the beds at night.

Looking toward the bathroom.

The bed I choose.   It's right next to a zip up window and we open the canvas at night.

The resident warthogs

Lunch.   I think this was chicken curry and I tried to cut the fire with rice.

Another resident

Dessert

Giraffe at the waterhole

Giraffe at the waterhole

Solar water heater.

The turn off to our tent.   I tried to put all these camp photos in order but Blogspot isn't allowing that for some reason.

Our cottage from the front side.

The back side of our hybrid cottage/tent.

The name of our tent

The from of the tent.   Not much time to spend here but we did enjoy it.

We were told to "lock" our tents when we left them because the vervets (monkeys) had figured out how to undo the zippers.   At a different camp last year, we had to use a padlock and hide the key because the ververts had figured out the small carabiners, such as the one above.

A well-traveled animal trail in front of the tent.

Again, because Blogspot won't let me cut this photo.

Impala were always in camp.   There's a beautiful stag against the building.

 

My mistakenly-acquired "husband" Randy, with Cory in a common lounge area.   This is where we gathered before game drives, after game drives, or whenever.   Kept on eye on the waterhole, too, from here.   Despite his scowl, Randy kept us laughing the whole trip.

 

The dining area.

 

 

An appetizer, I think.   Don't recall what it was, but it was delicious.