The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 23: Goofy Zebra, Eye-Level Giraffes, and a Braai

(Remember:  You can see the photos full screen by clicking on one.  It will bring up a filmstrip.)

        Late afternoon, and we are off on our game drive, with Bashi as our guide and driver.   The other half of our group is going to the Lala Limpopo overnight hide, and I hope they have more luck than we did.

        

        Almost first thing out of camp, I find myself looking straight into the eyes of a giraffe.   Not looking up, just straight and horizontal.   Not often that happens.

        Bashi drives around some bushes and into the dry stream bed.   The giraffes are nibbling from the top and from the bottom.

        A peanut gallery of chacma baboons watches from on high.   

        And then!!   Today's drama.   These zebra are playing, Bashi says, but it could get serious if it goes on much longer.

 

Note the little impala, completely serene, in the left foreground.

        Okay, I don't think kicking another zebra in the teeth counts as play.!

        A final lookback and the zebra wander off, apparently still friends.

        Suddenly, we are on a Ferrari Safari!   When something great is spotted, we rush cross-country to it.   Hang onto your hats and cameras!

The leopard known as Mohoyo

        We spend a lot of time with Mohoyo, and evening draws nigh,   I look around and like the cloud formations.   The leopard is at lower right.

        Mohoyo moves to a different location.   We follow.

    It's getting very late, and night is fast approaching.   I wonder why we are still out and not heading back to camp, but I'm enjoying the sunset.

The wonderfully enchanting baobab tree.

        Now it is dark, and our spotter shines a spotlight on the surroundings, in search of the night critters.   

Video :

        I have no photos, but we see springhare, a genet, and BEST OF ALL, an African wild cat.   A LIFER FOR ME!

        Seeing an African wildcat is considered insanely rare.   They are nocturnal, elusive, and their numbers are scarce.   In size, they are somewhat larger than a domestic cat.

        This is a photo I borrowed from the Internet.

        I don't know what I was trying to capture here, but this gives you an idea of what it's like.

        I don't know how to explain what happened next, except to say that everyone else seemed to know something I didn't.   Remember, I came late to this trip after a lady had to cancel, so I guess it was discussed before I joined the pre-trip conversations.

        On the other hand, sometimes they will throw in surprises.

        The vehicle stops, and the others start getting out.   Assuming we were back at the camp, though things looked a bit different, I hand my heavy camera down to someone.

        "You can leave it.   You don't need it,"  that someone said.    I'm confused.   What?   I wasn't going to leave my expensive camera in the safari vehicle overnight!!!

        I get out, holding onto my camera bag.   "No, you don't need it.   Leave it all in the truck."

        Then I look around.    Oh, my.   An outdoor dinner.   It's called a braai in the southern part of Africa, and it was spectacular.   What we call a barbecue, they call a braii.

 

The beverage bar.

Getting the fire ready.

There are kettles sitting on four-legged stands over some hot coals.   Kettles like Dutch Ovens.

Sausage, chicken, steak, corn on the cob!

Our table.

Shelly, left, Virginia, and Bashi.   The tea candles in paper bags are a nice touch.

                        Cory, Shelly, Virginia, Bashi, and Randy.

        And would you look at this!!!   We are dining next to a baobab tree, and it is in bloom!  It blooms only once a year, and always at night. By morning, the flowers have faded and turned brown.

From the Internet:    Baobab trees bloom, producing large, white, crinkled flowers that typically open at night and last for only about 15 to 24 hours. These flowers bloom annually, usually at the end of the dry season, and are primarily pollinated by fruit bats, moths, and sometimes mouse lemurs. 

What a special occasion Tuli Lodge arranged for us.

My plate:

My plate.   The largest piece in upper right is a chicken thigh.    That was enough for me, but the servers couldn't believe I didn't want sausage (2 inch piece) and a piece of steak to the left of the chicken.   (Uh, steak is very tough in Botswana.).  Then, a wee bit of salad, lovely creamed spinach, a bit of pap*, and 2 baked potato slices.   I would have been content with just the chicken and more spinach!

*Pap:   A staple food in African countries, pap is made from ground maize with water and salt.   It resembles porridge or polenta, but stiffer.   Africans often take a couple of fingerfuls of pap and use it to scoop up any stew-like food.

THE OBLIGATORY BIRDS!

Here are two very, very bad photos.  I did what I could with them, but they are hopeless.   They are also LIFERS, so here's the proof.

Green-backed hoopoe.

Marisco flycatcher

Lost in Translation

I've tried to tell the red squirrels that visit my bird feeder that it's called a "BIRD" feeder for a reason.

 Really, Squirrel, it's no wonder why the feeder is empty so often and you have to dive for sunflower seeds.

Yes, I'll refill it soon.

You're welcome.   (Sigh.)

That pretty Pine Grosbeak lady is waiting patiently for her turn.

September in Contrast

Leaden skies mute the vibrant hues of autumn as the tail end of a cyclone from the Far East brings persistent rain to the Kenai Peninsula.

The overall dullness of the day is punctuated by the white backs of Beluga whales rising to breathe,  offering sharp contrast to the pewter-colored waters of glacial flour-laden Turnagain Arm.  The Belugas are no doubt snacking on late run silver salmon, both surfing through the tides with ease and grace.

Rising and falling beside their mothers, the darker calves blend with the color of the water.

These gregarious cetaceans are sometimes called sea canaries because of their varied language of squeaks, whistles, twitters, clicks, wails, shrieks, clangs, and honks.  A prominent bulb on their heads, called a "melon", is used for echolocation.

They are an Arctic and sub-Arctic mammal, with males up to 18 feet long, and weighing up to 3500 pounds.


For those of us humans who regularly scan the Arm hoping for a glimpse of these enigmatic whales, sighting them brings a smile to our faces and a completeness to our days.

That they appear to be smiling in return makes their sighting all the more special.

When You Really, Really Need a Nap

It was hotter than blazes around here over the weekend.   Well, hot for this neck of the wood is in the low 80s, a very rare occurance.

I hid in the house both days until after 8 P.M., when the temperature dropped into the mid 70s.  Then I ventured out to go pick up litter along the highway.   It was, incidentally, broad daylight, but that's Alaska in the summer.

So, I was walking along, looking for and picking up litter, when I almost stepped on this little fellow.  I wouldn't have seen him if he hadn't fluttered a couple feet away.

 

I think he was a pine siskin, but as fluffed up as he was it was hard to judge his size.   Siskins are small-- smaller than sparrows, so there's chance he was a sparrow.   Siskins, which travel in flocks,  also have a yellow wingbar and his was beige.

He tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep.   I couldn't believe it.   He was no more than three feet from the asphalt of the Seward Highway and he went to sleep.

 

He also appeared to be full-grown.  I don't go peeking into the nests of siskins and sparrows, but I think they're still nesting.

 

I got closer.  He'd look around and go back to sleep.   I think I was too big for him to see.

I put my hand down in front of him.   Nothing.

I lightly touched his breast with one finger.   He didn't even wake up.

I walked away, leaving him to his nap alongside a highway where vehicles are zipping past at 65 mph on a steep hill.

Later, I was coming up the other side of the highway, and in just about the same area, here's this little bird hopping through the grass.   It looked identical to the one on the other side.   This one, too, really needed a nap.   It fluttered up into a tree and went to sleep.

If Sleepyhead is the same bird, he managed to make it unscathed across three lanes of traffic, despite the fact that he seemed to fall asleep every few seconds.

 I took some photos, even went up to my truck about 75 feet away to get the good camera.   Took some more photos and when I left he was sleeping peacefully on an alder branch.

My camera is six inches from this bird.

Sweet dreams, Sleepyhead.

The Yosemite Journals, Chapter Four

Norman pulled the truck up to the Park Ranger kiosk to check into our campground site.   A dry erase board next to the window got our attention.

As did two large photos next to it:

Photo is of black bear in a vehicle with window frame around its upper body, showing the kind of damage bears can do.

Black bear raiding an unsecured cooler at campsite.

That evening a park ranger camp through the campground, advising everyone that a bear had been sighted in the far end of the campground.

She warned us again about keeping food and all scented items (like toothpaste, hand lotion, etc.) secure in the bear boxes.

I was sound asleep later that night when I thought I felt something bump the top of my cot.  There is a pocket sewn into the tent wall where I kept my Kindle, a notepad and pen, and my reading glasses.

Groggy, I tried to figure out what it had been and finally decided my hand must have touched the pouch.  I listened for a while and heard nothing.  All was calm.    I stuffed my earplugs back in and went to sleep.

There were no further disturbances for me that night.

The next morning, Kristy said there had been a bear outside her tent during the night.  She mimicked the asthmatic-like breathing of a bear.  Her tent was right next to mine.

A few minutes later, she said, people a couple hundred feet away were yelling, “Bear!  Bear!  Bear!”  They had neglected to dispose of their trash and the bear scattered it around the campsite.  Had I heard them yelling?

Nope.  Not with earplugs.  Now that slight bump against my tent wall made sense.

 

The next night, about 10 PM, we heard a loud bang, like an explosion.  My first thought was that the propane system of a motorhome had exploded.

Warning sign at Camp Curry parking lot.

We asked around thfollowing day and the consensus was a rock fall, something that is not unusual in this valley.  I was pretty sure that noise had not been a rockfall.

Not until several nights later did we find out what the noise was.  I head the distinct sounds of a shotgun firing some distance away.   A while later, there were two more shots closer to our camp.

A half hour later, two more shots like the explosive noise I’d heard earlier and just as close.  There was no doubt this time.  Park rangers were firing bean bags at a bear that was roaming close to people.

I never did see a bear in Yosemite.  I did, however, see some other wildlife.

Caterpillar

Stellars jay.  These jays seem smaller than Alaskan jays and ours don't have the blue stripes on the head.  Or, not that I've seen.

Stellars jay

A very warm raven.  Birds have no sweat glands, but open their mouths and breath rapidly (pant) to cool off.

This squirrel had dug itself a shallow depression and stretched out full length to cool off.  It tucked in its hind legs when it saw I was going to take its picture.  Squirrel vanity?

Coyote

Coyote in wildflowers.

Mule deer

Nice sentiments, Mr. President, although I maintain that wild beasts and birds are not our "property," and that it is our responsibility to protect them for themselves as well as for future generations.