The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 5: Everything Needs Sustenance

(Note:   If you click on one photo, it will bring up a filmstrip that you can then scroll through, with each photo full screen.)

I struggled to find a name for this chapter of my journals.  One of the first things that came to mind was the cutesy “The Circle of Life,” made popular by Disney’s The Lion King.   It misses the mark and sounds silly to me.

The “cruelty of nature” was another thought that I dismissed as trite.  Being eaten by another creature so it can continue living is only cruel if you’re the one being eaten.

So, I went with the obvious, the literal, the truthful: everything needs to eat.   You will not find any gory photos in this post, unless you think a bird swallowing a fish or an insect is gory.  There will be a couple of deceased critters, though, but little, if any, blood.

So, let‘s get on with it.

We’re on a drive into the Chobe National Park today.  Quite soon, our guide spots something beind us and far off.  (Note:   I am constantly astonished at the keen eyesight and hearing of Africans.)

He turns the Land Cruiser around and drives at least a quarter mile (??) to our left, where we see the luckiest black-backed jackal in the world.  It has a dead impala all to itself.

The guides speculate that something killed the impala and was then scared off the kill.   What is amazing is that there are no hyenas or vultures or lions nearby.    Only a tawny eagle high in a tree waits for a piece of meat.

The jackal is on high alert, not believing its luck.   It attempts to drag the small animal behind a bush.

Jackals are small canines, standing about 16 inches high and weighing 17 to 25  lbs., so dragging the dead weight of a roughly 120 lbs. female impala is quite a feat.   We leave the jackal to its fortuitous meal.

 

 

 

 

Then, there are the baboons.  From the Internet:

            Baboons are opportunistic omnivores whose diet includes a wide variety of plants and animals. They eat fruits, grasses, seeds, roots, and bark, and will also hunt and eat birds, rodents, insects, and even young antelopes. Their diet is adaptable to their environment and what is seasonally available. 

  This little one doesn't have to forage for a while.

   

    One afternoon during a game drive in Chobe National Park, we came across some Little bee-eaters actively feeding their hatchlings in a nest burrowed into the berm on the side of the road.

     Good time to practice shooting birds in flight and we all enjoyed the challenge.

The dark spot (not under the green plant) is the burrow, deep in the dirt.   There's a piece of dead grass across the opening.   The burrow can be 24 inches deep.

        I think we are all grateful that the most enormous animals are herbivores.  This bull is dining on the succulent grasses along the Chobe River, sometimes using a tusk to help tear loose the vegetation.

Hippos, also called river horses, are also herbivores.   They spend most of the day immersed in water, coming out at dusk to graze on grass.

Occasionally, you can spot one grazing during the day.

The beautiful swamp hen forages in the grass for insects, supplemented by animal prey such as frogs, fish, snails, and insects.  They are adaptable foragers that also eat bird eggs and nestlings, and in some areas, may eat human food scraps, seeds, or fruit. 

 Then, we find the African open-billed stork, whose bill has evolved to open mollusks, such as those of  aquatic snails.

Two storks, and what a size difference.   The smaller one is the black stork, also called the umbrella bird for its habit of forming an umbrella with its wings when foraging in water.   The other is the openbill.

The openbill with a snail.

Note how the bottom mandible is inserted into the shell to cut the snail's attachment to the shell.

Ick,   Yuk. Escargot, anyone?

        Next, we have the favorite bird for tourists, according to the guides--the African Lilac-breasted roller, or LBR, for short.   The bird is using its wings to propel itself forward.    It comes up with ???   A cricket, maybe?

        For photographers, the fun part is watching the bird toss the insect into the air and catching it so the head is swallowed first.   This one just swallowed it without the toss.

        Just because a mammal or bird catches dinner doesn't always mean it can keep it.   Hyenas are notorious for stealing food from cheetahs or lions, even.   Leopards, on the other hand, carry their prey into a tree (if available) and thus escape the marauding hyenas.

        In the photo below, an African spoonbill has caught something that might be a fish or an eel.   It's running away, and at first I thought it was afraid the great egret was after its catch.

          Nope, looks what's coming in from stage left.   It's a gray-headed heron with a long and more pointed bill than the poor spoonbill with its softly rounded bill tip.

        Two seconds, by my camera's clock, is all it took for the heron to snatch away the spoonbill's catch.

        And the spoonbill goes back to the water to fish again.

        When we first saw this pied kingfisher, it was sitting on the ground in a rock-strewn area with a fish in its bill.

    

            It flew to a tree branch and proceeded to bash the daylights out of the fish.

        Then another branch, and the bashing continued.

Now completely unrecognizable as a fish, dinner is ready.

        The whole process seems to be to make the fish easier to swallow, for instance, breaking bones, dislodging fins that might get caught in the bird's esophagus, etc.

        

            Now we have the African fish eagle.   Except it, like the American bald eagle, isn't really an eagle, but a type of sea eagle.   I thought this explanation was interesting:

    The African fish eagle is a type of sea eagle, related to the bald eagle, and shares many of its physical traits, like a dark body and white head. It is a large raptor with a wingspan of up to 7.5 feet (2.3 meters), primarily hunts fish by swooping from a perch to snatch prey from the water, and has a distinctive, loud call that can be heard for miles. Unlike "true eagles," which are defined by having feathers all the way down to their feet, the African fish eagle is classified as a sea eagle because its feathers end a few inches above its bare, yellow legs and feet. 

        

            Like the American bald eagle, they are called kleptoparasites because they readily steal food from other birds and animals.   Herons and saddle-billed storks are their favorites to steal from, but not exclusively.

        Next up is the Squacco heron, a small type of heron.   It took four minutes and 240 camera shots before this bird swallowed the fish.

            Whew!   Finally!

            As for these guys, they will get a post of their own in the future.

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 4,: The Elephants

         Most evenings when we gather for supper in the camps, Marg Wood, a long-time friend and co-leader on this safari, asks:   “What was your favorite sighting or photo of the day?” 

I love these moments when, sans cameras, we reflect on the things we witnessed during the game drives.   No thoughts of the best camera settings, the proper angle, the backgrounds, the direction of the light.  Just immersed in the wonder of the wild animals and birds and scenery we came to see.

On one particular night early in the trip, my answer is immediate and without a doubt:  “The elephants paying their respects.”

That event occurred on a day when we took a game drive in Chobe National Park, rather than a boat ride on the river.   We alternate these game drives.

The gate at Chobe National Park, 4500 square miles of unfenced refuges and several ecosystems.   

One of the first things our guide pointed out was a lion guarding the carcass of a deceased elephant.   It was quite far away, but our powerful telescopic lenses were able to pick out the scene.

 

 

No way to determine the cause of the elephant’s demise, so it might well have been “natural causes.”   Lions, no matter how many of them, cannot take down a full-grown elephant, but they do prey on the babies.

Later in the day, on our way back out of the park, we see a dead tree with a lot of vultures and Marabou storks perched on its limbs, with more arriving as we watched.

Incoming Marabou stork

Finished photographing the vultures, our guide moves the vehicle a bit farther down the dirt trail,  and then we can see living elephants passing by the carcass of their dead kin, each pausing to pay respects to the dead animal.   The dead tree is almost immediately above that site.

I don’t take any photos, not only because the creatures were almost impossible to see through the dense vegetation, but I am so caught up in the emotions of witnessing something I'd only read about, that photographs are beyond my realm of thought, and soon, my eyes so clouded with tears and with my heart in my throat, I couldn’t see them anymore.

We drive a very short distance and watch as numerous elephants cross in front of and behind us, all heading to the Chobe River for water.   I wondered if they, too, would pause by the dead elephant.

Suddenly, I realize we are directly above a place on the river called Elephant Bay, a spot with a natural salt lick and with easy access to the river for all animals.   I even recognize the dead tree with its committee of vultures.  Fine collective noun, isn’t it?

 

From Bird Facts:  The term or name for a group of vultures varies depending on where they are, although the generic term is a flock. When they are flying in formation, they are referred to as a kettle. When they are resting in a tree or on the ground, vultures are called a committee, and whilst feeding, they are known as a wake.

 

 

It is so easy to anthropomorphize these animals, to look at them and think they have the same characteristics, behaviors, and emotions that we humans do, but what chutzpah it is for us to think we humans are the only living creatures to feel emotions, especially when anyone who has spent time observing animal behaviors can swear otherwise.   I am not suggesting that they have the vast range or depth of human feelings, but just that they do to some extent.

If you take issue with my thoughts on this subject, I urge you to read of Lawrence Anthony’s experiences in the book The Elephant Whisperer:  My Life with the Herd in the African Wild.   And be prepared to be awed.

Some more photos of elephants along the river:

 

        Who knows why this elephant is creating such a splash?   I can guess.   Elephants love to play in the water.   They bathe themselves—then get on shore and cover themselves with mud and dirt!   They submerge until only the tip of their truck is visible.

        When drinking, the babies—so susceptible to attacks from crocodiles—are safely in the middle of a forest of huge elephant legs.

        So, it could be any number of reasons, including scaring away any lurking crocs before it drinks so one doesn't grab its trunk.

 

The overall scene.

        

        Then, through the miracle of 500mm telescopic lenses:

Elephants crossing the Chobe River:

The river is too deep for the baby so it's snorkeling as it swims.

Safely protected by adult elephants' legs.

High water mark.

So much for a bath!

Elephants have delicate hides, believe it or not, so they coat themselves with mud and dirt.   They act as sunscreen and provide protection from insects.

That we should see so many elephants along the Chobe is not unusual.   Botswana boasts the largest population of free-roaming elephants in Africa.

And, I end with a short video of elephants drinking at Elephant Bay.   Note how the littles are well-protected.

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 3, A River by any other Name is Still the Chobe

 

What can I say about a river that changes names several times along its course, that contributes to a mighty water system that forms the largest single sheet of falling water in the world?

A river that at times flows upstream, as well as parts of which go dry?

A river that hosts the largest population of free-ranging elephants in Africa?  And, a river whose shores are protected and reserved for the iconic animals of Africa for much of its journey?

Well, as my research reveals, there’s quite a lot I could say about this river.   First, because I’m in Botswana, I will call it by its local name—the Chobe River (CHO'-bee).  And because the river is part of the Chobe National Park, I’ll refer to it all as the Chobe and not by all the other names that might be meaningless and confusing to you

The many channels and waterways of the river.

 

(.IF YOU MUST KNOW:   Its headwaters rise in Angola, where it’s called the Cuando, then along Namibia-Botswana through the Linyanti Swamp. Below the swamp, the river is called the Linyanti River and, farther east, the Chobe River, before it flows into the Zambezi River.   Now, aren’t you happy that I’m referring to it as the Chobe?)

The song of the African ring-necked dove in the early dawn at Pangolin Chobe hotel.   Some say  that early in the  day, it sounds like "Work harder," while some insist that later in the day, it's saying, "Drink Lager."   I think it sounds like "Bots-wana."

There’s quite a lot of history associated with this vast river system, but I’m not going to go into it here.   I will, however, provide some links to Internet sites that you might find informative.  One thing that reminds us of part of that history is the Namibian flag that we often see while cruising on the river.

The northern border of Botswana, which is also the southern border of Namibia, was hotly disputed for a century because of some ambiguous language in a 1890  treaty between the colonizing countries of the U.K. and Germany.   Finally, the International Court of Justice settled the matter in 1999 by declaring that the northern channel of the river will be the border.

The exquisite purple heron.   Standing almost three feet tall, this shy bird prefers water and reeds where it find its dinner.   We had many sighting of this ellusive bird.

The purple heron.

 

One thing:  The Chobe joins the great Zambezi River just a short distance from where I’m staying and the Zambezi is the river that forms Victoria Falls in neighboring Zimbabwe.   And Victoria Falls, a UNESCO site,  was named by Dr.   David Livingston, the famed British explorer/missionary who disappeared in Africa for four years until Stanley “found” him, as in “Dr. Livingston, I presume?”  

 

The squacco (SKWAH-Koh) heron is a smaller bird, less than 20 inches tall, and lacks the long neck of the larger herons.   The first time I saw one, right here on the Chobe, it was dawn, and the brilliant yellow rays of the sun burnished this bird to gold.   It was quite a sight. and that's how I always "see" them, no matter what light they're in.   Its color is described as Buffy tan.

Down the hatch at last.

One source claims that “today many names of towns in Africa have been changed to indigenous names of the local heroes, the exception to this rule is those names directly connected with David Livingstone. These include Livingstone(Town), Blantyre (Malawi), and of course, the famous Victoria Falls with its name unchanged because of the love that the local people had for this man who named it.”

Here's a lifer bird for me, lifer being the first time you see a specimen of a particular bird.   This is a swamp hen.   Not a very good photo because it's small and wanders about in tall grass.

 

The native name for the falls is translated as “the smoke that rises” for the vast plume of mist that can be seen for miles.

 

I accidentally underexposed this African black stork, another lifer.   But, it's the best shot I have that depicts the long head feathers on this bird.  




Below is a link to a short video that shows the comical foraging behavior of this heron, sometimes called the umbrella heron .  You'll have to paste it into your browser to see it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s2PdZfYj2w





This photo is of a juvenile African jacana.   Note the long toes that enable it to walk on lily pads.

Why am I mentioning Dr. Livingstone?   Because I’m a Livingstone junkie as well as a Shackleton junkie.   Also, it’s said that wherever we go, we leave a piece of ourselves there, so I’m simply reconnecting with pieces of myself.

 

Pied wagtail and juvenile.

Can’t see that mist from Pangolin Chobe Hotel, though it’s only about an hour’s drive from here, which included going through passport control and customs along the way.  Nonetheless, Dr. Livingstone explored much of this area, including what is now Chobe National Park.

Reed cormorant

No, it isn't this dark, but it is close to sunset on our first river cruise.   Pointing the camera toward, NOT AT, the sun can bring some surprises.   Those are waterbucks grazing.

A link for more info:

 

https://whc.unesco.org/en/tentativelists/5556/

Plus, my favorite book about Dr. Livingstone is :

Into Africa: The Epic Adventures of Stanley and Livingstone by Martin DuGard.   I highly recommend it.