South Africa
On the Big Five track

The sounds of African nature are like a sweet symphony that lulls us, or wakes us up. Yesterday the particular chirping of bats, this morning the song of birds and the distant howls of hyenas. Our camp is built in the pa the day’s circuits.

Meeting at 7am at the restaurant, the rangers are discussing the day’s circuits.

We take our breakfast in a setting of wood, adventure novels and wild land, under the eye of the felines whose immense portraits already impress us. Will we get a chance to see them? Will we be able to admire their graceful beauty and quiet strength, at last other than in television documentaries and in beautifully framed photographs (thanks Yellow Korner) for Europeans in need of authentic nature?

Some recommendations, checking of the equipment, rustling of wheels in the vaporous earth, the jeep gets on the track, the first warthogs appear, and with them the feeling of entering the kingdom of the Disney animals…

A young elephant and her mother try to cross the track by running before the jeep joins them, to escape our disturbing glances. She has a look at the men to make sure they don’t pose a danger to her baby left behind. Like a feeling of being an unwelcome intruder.

A herd of buffalos excites themselves from the noise of the vehicles and offers us the spectacle of their ride in the brush.

A herd of impalas accompanied by a giraffe poses in front of our camera lenses.

Black and white slices with the green of the brush. A family of zebras grazes.

A rock seems to be moving. One ear, two. The rhinoceros bursts, opens a placid eye on us and rests his head to continue his nap.
My disappointment in not being able to see this standing specimen is quickly forgotten. Further on, another giant gives us its best profile by pressing its two front legs on a rock.
Its skin resembles a sculpture of steel where one could still guess the passage of the hand of the artist. He’s got a horn in the middle of his forehead, a skin suit, two little eyes, he’s huge, and yet he’s gorgeous.
All the platitudes about the beauty of nature come to mind.

The ranger points to a three-quarter elephant hidden behind a tree. Camouflaged between his legs, an innocent little eye looks at us. The nose in the viewfinder, I zoom in as much as possible. The time to take the photo and it lowers the look. I realize there was a piece of electronics between him and me. I’m putting my camera away. The sequel will print first in my mind before it is on film.

More and more elephants, zebras….. No, we are not blasé!
We approach a dried-up river where crocodiles, hippos with the look of a man almost make us forget that this animal is one of the most dangerous of the savannah,

And giraffes. Three of them seem to be talking about us in a compromise.

For the umpteenth time, one of the people on our team has revealed his science on wild animals (it seems that statistically there is always one in a group….), which nobody seems to be interested in.

Our guide nosed down. He has seen it too many times before, or, we have exhausted him...

A lone buffalo hums our presence in the air.

Another jeep, driven by a South African ranger whom I can’t help but find badass with his short hair and his adventurous outfit, leaves as a scout following the call of a colleague.

A lion was seen at the top of a hill. Our first feline of the day. Unfortunately, he’s too far away and I don’t work for National Geographic; my equipment is far from being sufficient. All I can see is a vague, white, crowy stain. That’s okay, the bush is not a zoo. This is not our territory and the animals are not there to satisfy our greed for overequipped tourists. I’d much rather have to guess the details of a lion on the loose than see a poor beast up close and personal whose life will only continue between gates.

On the way back, three birds waddle quietly on the track.
They make me think of three grandmothers gossiping on their way back from the village market.

We cross the path of a last flock, which reminds us of its power through the silhouettes.

We set out again towards the camp, with a light heart, with a smile of fullness and a glimmer in the gaze that was not there before.
Return to the camp. The sun continues its descent, magnifiing the hills' reliefs by tinting them with deep colors.
A little air of Out of Africa.

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I am an African
Not because I was born there
But because my heart beats with Africa’s
I am an African
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa

When Africa weeps for her children
My cheeks are stained with tears
When Africa honours her elders
My head is bowed in respect
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing

I am an African
For her blue skies take my breath away
And my hope for the future is bright
I am an African
For her people greet me as family
And teach me the meaning of community
I am an African
For her wildness quenches my spirit
And brings me closer to the source of life

When the music of Africa beats in the wind
My blood pulses to its rhythm
And I become the essence of sound
When the colours of Africa dazzle in the sun
My senses drink in its rainbow
And I become the palette of nature
When the stories of Africa echo round the fire
My feet walk in its pathways
And I become the footprints of history

I am an African
Because she is the cradle of our birth
And nurtures an ancient wisdom
I am an African
Because she lives in the world’s shadow
And bursts with a radiant luminosity
I am an African
Because she is the land of tomorrow
And I recognise her gifts as sacred

Wayne Visser

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To learn more about Kruger Park, it’s here.