Before I left, I mentioned that I really would be happy if I saw giraffes. They just have a certain something about them.
On the second day of our safari, after a very civilized caffee latte in a thatched gazebo on the edge of Crater Lake in Kenya (a peaceful morning-misted place frosted pink at the edges with flamingos), we drove in matutus(local mini-vans)up a horrendously-pitted trail to a reserve area that was special because we could walk safely outside of the vehicles with no fear of large predators.
There were signs warning about buffalos actually but we were assured that they hadn't been seen around in a while.
Here we could wander among animals like impala, zebras, wart-hogs...and giraffes. Lots and lots of giraffes.
The first time I saw one we were still riding in the van and there was a collective gasp from everybody as a long neck suddenly rose above the shrubbery next to the road and peered at us with long-lashed eyes as we passed.
The impalas kept their distance. The zebras were skittish. The wart-hogs jogged coyly away. But the giraffes didn't seem to mind us at all.
If you got too close for their taste, they'd casually take one or two rocking steps away in an unhurried fashion. They were big steps, of course. They were big animals.
They were as beautiful and magical as I'd always hoped they'd be, and they seemed to project an air of tranquility and peace.
I sat on the ground for a while watching one who was sitting nearby me. I had never before seen them sitting on the ground with their incredible legs folded up so awkwardly underneath them.
We probably saw about thirty separate animals. They seemed to like to move in groups of three or four, but some wandered off into the forested area and grazed the trees on their lonesome.
It was a big enough space that you could feel you were all alone with the animals if you wanted. I wandered far from the group and watched one animal stretching her neck high into a tree and curling her tongue around the leaves.
This was where I found the obsidian rocks that I kept and brought back, one for me and one for my friend Melanie, who had requested a rock from Africa. So Melanie, it was quite a magical place your rock came from.
5 comments:
Giraffes, but no lap-rhino for me.
hmmm.
It's for the best, I suppose.
(those giraffes ARE awkward looking on the ground, aren't they!)
Now, here is a perfect example of something I brought up in an earlier post. Your Twain-esque observations of a Kenyan morning (“…the edge of Crater Lake in Kenya [a peaceful morning-misted place frosted pink at the edges with flamingos]) is evocative and eloquent and really belongs in book... particularly one like Twain’s (him again!) Tramps Abroad and More Tramps Abroad.
I just have one question: While I agree these far off places are wonderful to visit, and want to visit them myself one day soon, why have you not tripped across this, your home and native land?
And, you are right. Giraffes do have an odd peace about them, as if they are the zen masters of Africa. Rafikki be dammned!
I have not tripped blithely across Canada, blackcrag, my dear, because airfare to Newfoundland is more than it is to London. :)
Happy Birthday by the way!
Besides...
I actually HAVE done three or four road trips which involved Canada. I made it as far as Winnipeg one year with Jeff's family, and another time I braved a prairie summer to go see my friend corky in Saskatoon. I house-boated at Shuswap Lake in B.C. one year and we also tried to camp near Hope one year but the mosquitoes were defending their gang turf and we fled.
That is magical. Thank you for sharing with me, and thank you so much for remembering me!
These stories are lovely!
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