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 Giant 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.