Birds and Rhinos

The steam is pouring and swirling off my tea cup, caught in the small and chilly breeze that is also catching the dust out at the waterhole. I am sitting at SC’s place up north. His home is low and open and the line between his garden and the veld is only marked by the end of his lawn. This is our second day of sitting on his porch and looking out at the waterhole.

It has been birding heaven for us. Yesterday we spent the day identifying the tiny sunbirds settling in his lush green garden. Once we had those we transferred the lenses of our binoculars to the grey, brown and black birds that were camouflaged into the veld around the waterhole: helmeted guinea fowl bouncing across the gravel like soccer balls escaping small children, swainsons francolin peeking out from under bushes and around rocks and cape turtle doves perched in the trees cooing to us all day.

For those who are not as delighted by the birds as we are, there have been kudu, warthog, oryx, springbok, wildebeest, red hartebeest, porcupines and the excitement of a brown hyena, alone and thrilling. For us to see this amazing plethora of creatures, big and small all we have had to do is sit in SC’s comfy chairs, drink his tea and coffee and hold our binocs to our faces. When all of this has overwhelmed us, we simply place the binocs on the table and pick up our books. It has been idyllic idleness!

The night before last, as we arrived here, SC had us pack blankets and sandwiches and took us out for a full moon Rhino observation. We drove through the bush at dusk and watched the sun go down behind a dark southern giraffe. Then we settled in at the waterhole to wait for the rhino to appear. And appear they did!

The moon slowly rose, with the strength and beauty of the goddess that people worship her for. The landscape was lit eerily, like someone had thrown towels over the lamps. Throughout the night we had five rhino visit in about the same number of hours. They are massive animals, as though boulders grew legs and decided to eat, breed and be stately. They are also grey like the rocks in the region and when lit by moonlight they are large, intimidating ghosts. What I found amazing was how nimble they are, the rhinos were so light-footed, and twirled on the spot like ballerinas when spooked by the flash of the camera.

Last night as we were preparing for bed, but enjoying the last of the embers of the fire we had cooked on, we heard the deep-throated call of a lion. Suddenly the end of the lawn seemed very close indeed and us tourists scurried into the house to “brush our teeth”. Once safe and warm under our covers with books once again in hand and the lights firmly on, the continued bellowing of the lions was primal and yet somehow managed to be comforting. Perhaps because, as long as we could hear him out there, we knew we were safe in here!

More to come from Etosha at a later date, although how Etosha will outshine Ongava, I have no idea!