6th September 2008 : Big Game Bonanza

Weather-wise, July and August were dull, grey months, but extremely windy and very dry. The land is already like parchment and now with the intense September heat settling in for the duration, it's getting drier by the minute. In a normal year (but who can rely on that these days?), it would still be another two months before the next rainy season, so it's no wonder that a lot of animals and birds are now spending their days in the vicinity of the river where (at least for now) there is permanent water. The river is low, but it's flowing and that's the main thing. Our balcony, then, has become like a big game viewing platform, with never a day passing without some great sightings of large mammals coming down to drink, like this lovely Waterbuck bull, emerging from the dry hinterland to quench his thirst:

The increase in big game on the river could also be a result of the safety and quiet the animals find here now, for our property (combined with those further upstream) forms a buffer for the river and the national park boundary. There is very little human activity on the river now, and so the animals can come and drink in peace with no disturbance (or indeed without fear of being hunted as would have been the case in the past.)

There are several sizable Buffalo herds frequenting the area, such as the one photographed above and below in July (in dull late evening light unfortunately). We often see buffalo on our sandbank upstream of the house, or downstream in the national park (where they spend time feeding in the reeds), and several times we've watched them crossing the river, from our property into the park, or vice versa. Of course, with no fences between us and the park, just the river demarcating the boundary, the animals make no distinction between our property and the park.

You'll remember our young one-horned Impala ram, whom we named (using great powers of imagination) "One Horn". Well, he's growing up into quite a handsome beast, fast becoming heavy and powerful. Back in June he was grazing on our sandbank with one of his staunch companions when a group of Lesser Kudu passed by to drink from the river:

Here he is again, back in July, just below the house. He's really starting to bulk out and become sturdy and imposing. I like the way his shadow is that of a unicorn...but you can also quite clearly see the stump that constitutes his second horn in this photo and the one below:

Just this week (on the 4th September to be exact), we saw him with part of a larger herd (he's fourth from the right, below). It's a long time since we've seen him with the herd - usually he is either on his own or just with one or two other young rams. You can also see a couple of Dikdik in the left hand corner of the photo. The dikdiks have certainly been cashing in on all the greenery on the sandbank (including thousands of Tana River Poplar seedlings) - one day we counted 21 dikdiks altogether just in that one spot (with several more on the riverbank downstream too:

Of course, the number of animals we see and the number of animals which are all around us hardly bear relation to each other...for so many creatures pass by unseen (though often heard) in the night, and many pass by in the daytime but are so stealthy or well camouflaged they escape our notice. In the past week, we have seen the pugmarks of a mother lion and her cub on our driveway just yards from the house, and the tracks of a leopard confirm it often passes below our bedroom window at night. Then there's the porcupine for whom I leave out potato and carrot peelings, but whom I never see (though from time to time I find his discarded quills as evidence) and of course the hare, whose pellet-like droppings are scattered across our nascent lawn, keeping it well trimmed before it even has the chance to grow properly!

The baboons are a daily (and guaranteed) fixture. There are at least three separate troops which live near us, and at times we can see all three simultaneously - one upstream, one downstream, and the third on the other side of the river. They are so human-like when they come down on the sandbanks in the late evening to relax and enjoy the last of the day's sun rays. After all, don't we also enjoy our "sun-downers" by the river?

Now that it is so dry and food is becoming scarcer inland, the baboons are spending a lot of time during the day on the small islands in the river, eating reed shoots and digging up green grasses and roots.

Back to the Lesser Kudu again, we're also seeing them in every direction. A couple of days ago there were some upstream, browsing near our well, a rather handsome bull downstream (above - note his characteristic spiral horns) and a beautiful doe just across the river from the house (below) - all within view at the same time.

I don't suppose Marabou Storks really qualify as "Big Game" (though you've got to admit they ARE big), but the day before yesterday, a gaggle suddenly appeared just below the house. I'm not sure what they hoped to find there, but before long they moved off again (much to the Spur-winged Plovers' delight - as you know, they don't appreciate any incursions into their space, whether they have a nest to defend or not!).

More and more Waterbuck are coming to the river, to browse on the sandbanks or to drink (or indeed both). Waterbuck always strike me as friendly, gentle creatures - I don't know why - it's just something about their demeanour.

This handsome chap seems undeterred by the ever-petulant plovers by his feet (as one might expect, he's not in the least concerned by their churlishness!). These does who came down to drink last week looked so beautiful in the golden light of evening, that I'm including two photos of them. You can see that, just like kudu and impala, female waterbuck have no horns.

Sometimes, the river turns a bright green colour, as can be seen in this photo of one of our resident crocodiles. We think this is due to algal blooms, which happen every now and again, especially when the river is low:

Usually when the elephants come down to the river (we're seeing herds every one or two days, and hear them nightly crashing in the reeds opposite the house), they come when the light is low and it's almost dark, as was the case when this herd appeared on our sandbank on a late evening in August, and then proceeded to cross the river into the park (note the heron disturbed by their passing in the bottom photo):

On Monday, we were treated to the lovely sight of an elephant herd, with a few little ones amongst them, coming to the river earlier than usual, and I was able to photograph them, basked in the golden glow of Tsavo's late afternoon light, which is so achingly beautiful, words alone cannot describe it...what a special way to end the day...

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