A night out in Moremi

You might wonder what we do for fun around here, there is no local waterhole so to speak, no dancin' to be had on bars (good thing I've outgrown that, though from what I keep hearing Graham hasn't and thus does so naked..... you can ask him about it) no wine with the girls to chat about what girls chat about.
Which I miss a great deal (shout out to my girls), poor Graham gets to hear about all my girly things, that I think he may almost be a girl now. Now for fear that I may be emasculating Graham please see the post about Moremi and the art of vehicle maintenance, grease covered manly man banging on steel heated by man made hot fire hitting it hard with very very heavy hammer resulting in the steel bending.

Anyway, I had come to love that staying in was the new going out anyway. So I am good with all this. But every once in a while ya get the urge to just "go out".


We have a few places for such outings, one as you know is Dead Tree Island a favorite magical spot for full moons and sunsets. There is also the Baobab tree. Which might be my favorite. Equally as magical in a story book sort of way. African's
have a tradition called sundowners. You guessed it, drinks outside watching the sun set. It's brilliant and all should embrace this tradition! And so we may head "out" for sundowners from time to time.
















The Baobab tree has inspired me, so much so to change the name of my blog to "At the Baobab Tree".... seems fitting.

















Here are some pics of us at the tree, Grahams friend Mike came up to spend some time here with us and I insisted on pictures being taken with the timer, you know group shots, killing Graham and leaving Mike the urge to entice Graham to be silly in one said pic. Being as quick witted as I am, I picked up on the ploy of their shenanigans and joined in on que... the result the following pic laughing, and then in all seriousness....

Back in the game

It has occurred to me that I’ve posted a lot of pictures of the big five and forgotten about the other less cooed over beautiful animals here in the delta. The often misunderstood hyena being one of them.

Before I left I heard all sorts of horror stories about the spotted Hyena (Crocuta crocuta) yes I am learning the latin names of mammals here in the delta which I might add is nothing to our resident two year old Keita who knows them already and all the latin names of the trees... ahem.....anyway......did I mention she is two?

There were stories where they had pulled children out of tents and killed them. From camp fires etc. All cases caused by negligence I might add. Tents left open to feed or catch a glimpse of one does and will result in this sort of outcome. Don’t get me wrong, horrible situations but there are rules for a reason. Because of these stories I was somewhat turned off by the Hyena and thought of them as scraggily ugly scavengers to be thought poorly of and to be afraid of.

Once I got to see one several times I started to see the beauty in them as there is in all animals. Still scavenger like, they are the only carnivore the eats virtually everything and can swallow a sliver of bone up to 9cm long and digest it with in hours, giving me something to be afraid of, from the comfort of the vehicle he is a lovely spotted beautiful animal.








The Jackal (canis adustus) is another often spotted animal here. To compare to something familiar to those at home, they look much like a fox. One will often see them eating the jackal berries form a jackal berry tree.









And my most favorite and not seen nearly enough for my liking the wild dog (Lycaaon pictus) such a magnificent and beautiful animal. They are a pack hunting dog and live in numbers that often reach 20 or more dogs. Stunning to watch but unfortunately rarely seen and as they move fast on the hunt making them very difficult to follow.





























I have also had the privilege to see a Caracal (Felis caracal) the african version of a Lynx, unable to take a picture as it was too dark at the time as they are mainly nocturnal, I’ve stolen this from google images. Stunning little creatures with the most amazing eyes and pointing ears.











Just the other day, as well at last light (google pic) we saw a beautiful Serval (Felis serval). At first I thought it was a baby leopard. It is the tallest of Africa's small cats with long legs.

Moremi and the art of vehicle maintenance

I am sure my uncle Bob has been following along thinking not much has happened in terms of the vehicles as of late. That lions of Moremi crew must have finally gotten their cars sorted.

Not so fast Bob. During yesterday's slight Mopane bashing chasing the lions we managed to hit several stumps and fall into several big holes and we drove home listening to the wheels wobble, the springs squeak and all sorts of nerve racking questionable sounds bellow out from within.



Today was therefore spent straightening bent springs, greasing bearings and checking the breaks.

Sometimes without the luxury of a close by mechanics garage, my Uncle Bob and a blow torch one has to improvise. Nothing that can’t be done here in camp. Improvising is a skill set that we all proudly posses as a result of living 4 hours from the nearest town. See my post on exercising in the bush and my improvised exercise equipment. (of which I have now added old soccer drills to, sprints, side steps, etc.)

To straighten the springs, which I imagined to be coiled springs but learnt today, adding to my exhaustive (and unwanted) knowledge of vehicle maintenance, are in fact leaf springs, which should be straight, not coiled as this one seems to have become. (once again doing my uncle Dan, uncle Bob and all other mechanics, yes there have been "some" for some reason, proud) One has to heat them up to bend them back to where and how they should be. As mentioned above, sans blow torch we did what all people that live in the middle of the bush would do. We lit a fire, put the metal "leaf" springs into the hot fire getting it to a high temperature so that we (Graham) can beat it back to how it should be.











As I sauntered by to see how Graham was doing I spotted this large pile of "bits". I asked if they all came off the vehicle, and if he actually knew where they all went. His response "some of them came from the vehicle, some not. And yes I know where they all go". Impressed, and reminded that once Graham is asked what it takes to become a wildlife photographer, his answer is always "become a mechanic first".

With the vehicle now it top condition we will head out tomorrow and search of the lions in an open plain.

Reflections

The game here is obvious and of course I love all the animals and miss them a great deal when we go into town. I can’t sleep without the hippos laughing me to sleep at night. But there is more to Moremi then the game. That does sound cheeky, but obviously not meant to be. ;-)

These are the reflections of Moremi. Everywhere there are reflections. We head out at first light in the morning, and in the afternoon not till 3pm to catch last light. Providing mirror like images in all the water we pass by in such wonderful light.

These images always set me into my own reflective state of mind. My mind revolving around itself in a combination of all of my life experiences, all the things I’ve had the privilege to see, all the things I’ve had the privilege to do, and all of the life choices I’ve had to make. I ride rooftop on Nythai and think back on all the emotional highs and lows of life and everything in between. The loves of my life, the good and the devastating and the one that got away. The success and the failures. The happy and the sad times and those all too difficult times. The amazing people in my life, and those who have disappointed. These times of reflection belong only to me. My life and my reflections are mine and mine only. Mine is the only one like it in the whole world. It is one of those rare moments where something is yours and yours only to be grasped.








Like the reflection of a water bird in a pond at last light, or a dead tree fallen into the flood water with it’s mirror image staring back at itself. There is only one other like it in the world, and that is it’s own image forcing itself back onto it. My image forcing itself back onto me.



Only I have done all of the things in the exact same way at the exact same time, with the exact range of emotions, and my unique sequence of thoughts about what I was doing and why I did it. I have my own unique way of reacting to what I have seen, what I hear, what I feel, and how I express myself about any given situation I encounter from day to day. When I reflect back on my life and think to myself what if I had done things differently or reacted differently, or said things differently in this time, or that...Did I do some things I shouldn’t have done? What if I had made some decisions and choices opposite of the ones I actually made, how different would my life be today? Not that I would want it any different, side from having my father back in my life. I have no regrets. My life is directly tied to the results of the choices I have made, and the messages I have sent out to the universe, and to my own mirror image whilst staring at myself and asking what next?

I can’t say I believe in hind-site. While yes, of course if we had it we would make different choices, but really if you did would you have had the pleasure of learning what you have from the choice you did make? I think with hind-site our lives would be boring and we as individuals wouldn’t grow.

I beleive life is about choices. You can choose to be a person who is simply a result of what has happened in your life,Or "Intentionally evolve and develop as a result of what has happened in your life."


I've learnt that your family won't always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren't blood related to you can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren't biological. I am blessed with a step father who has always been like a father and never treated me as anything less than his own daughter, and he came with an extra sister for me Kimberly, a step mother who having never had children of her own loved/loves me as hers. I have Marilyn and Dwight of whom took me in and taught me to be all that I can be and again I never felt as if I was anything other then family and at home with them, and with them came an extra brother Jamie and and extra sister Marissa. I had such love from my father and such love in my brother Paul, and sister Jacqueline. My uncle Dan, who like a package when I was a little girl sort of "came with my dad" he was the "other" man in my life, and my Aunt Risa who appears to be my biggest fan along with my uncle Joe... nothing wrong with that. I have the grandmother of all grandmothers, really they don't come like her any more in the dictionary for Granny, you will see her picture. Same for my grandfather, he is what all grandfathers should be. And their 60 plus years of marriage is a testament to me (and all) that love does last. I could go on and on.... point is I had/have more love and more people in my life to be overly blessed. And eternally grateful.

I have learnt that where ever you are that is where you were meant to be. Though choices I have made have seemed impetuous to some (o.k. most), the sort of serendipity my life has been amazed by could only have come with such. As a result of this I have learned that there is a time for departure even when there is no certain place to go.....

Reflections of my life allow me to look back and make a sober survey of my triumphs and failures, loves and losses, good, bad and indifferent. As I look back on my life and gaze into life's mirror, I see the person I’ve always wanted to be. That is not to say I don’t have a lot of growth and learning to do, I certainly do and I can’t wait for each curve in this winding road called life to show me what is next and what lesson I will be taught. But so far, I am happy with where I am and wouldn’t change a thing about my past. Not one bit of it, not even the bad bits. My past has formed who I am today. And good or bad along the way, it’s made me who I am now.

Moremi, and it’s reflections have been a sort of therapy for me, and not just in the healing process of dealing with the too early loss of my father, in my own process of self awareness and self reflection that hopefully comes with life for all, it has been painfully and joyfully therapeutic. And in this has sent me to places internally I’ve never been before. I’ve realized the turning points in my life thus far. I’ve never been one afraid to venture out, to test myself, I have no fear of change, rocking the boat or the unknown even with the hand life has dealt me I’ve always pushed the boundaries with an “it’s just what you do, get it done” attitude (instilled in me by my father, “I don’t care how you do it, just do it and do it right”.)

I don’t predict that I will write the next great novel, or discover a cure for anything, I won’t create a business and make millions. But I will live the life I want, and I won’t ever have the regrets that come with not having tried or done something or loved someone I wanted to along the way. This is the only life we will ever have and so it’s our only chance to get it right. And so I aspire to do so.

All of this has reminded me of a great Robert Frost poem, and if I remember correctly my brother Paul’s favorite;

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference



"I have inherited a belief in community, the promise that a gathering of the spirit can both create and change culture. In the desert, change is nurtured even in stone by wind, by water, through time"

Monkey luvin'

Over the last few days our search for the lions has been unsuccessful and so we’ve been taking in all that Moremi has to offer. Elephants at sunrise, water birds playing, impala grazing and monkeys mating.

As we were sitting just south of Jesse’s pools, Graham was filiming some impala and monkeys feeding together. These two monkeys, seemingly too young to be so randy, began to mimic a behavior they have obviously witnessed at some point in their elders and attempted, rather awkwardly, to “mate”. I found this to be quite fitting giving all the wedding of David and Ari, the anniversary of Uncle Dan and Aunt Risa and the very soon wedding of Janey and Brian.

It provided a rather ammusing moment for us all as the young female buckled under the weight of the male and then chased him off in annoyance.

Once back in camp I decided to look up such behavior in our rusty well read Behavior Guide to African Mammals (Richard Despard Estes) of which I am also learning the latin names of all the mammals in Moremi as well, and learnt that certain social presenting behaviour in monkeys looks so similar to mating behaviour that telling one from the other may be difficult. Though I can assure you that the motions involved in this performance seemed more on the romantic side than on the just saying “hello how’s it going” side of things.

Happy Anniversary Uncle Dan and Aunt Risa

Today is your anniversary and as you go about celebrating your marriage, friendship and companionship I sit and remember well your wedding day. In my wallet is my all time favorite picture of Dad, and it was taken at your wedding. It was the one time I got to dance with my father, the next time I figured would be on my wedding day. Sadly that won't happen but I am grateful that I got that one dance with my father looking dapper in his tux. And so it is an anniversary for me of sorts as well.

I celebrate you guys! Together you have been such an incredible team, and to me such an incredible support network through all that I have been through. My biggest fans, my cheering squad, my support and my shoulder to lean on. I thank you both dearly.

An incredible strong couple you are. Stand by each other through thick and thin. Help each other through the tough times, and you have never given up on each other. Your unconditional love for each other is outstanding. And as I watch you two love each other this way, I am again reminded how strong these genetic roots run in our family. It is the one thing that resonates out.... Dad taught me this, and I see it in you guys.

Congratulations! I hope you have a romantic fun day!

Much love
me

Congratulations David and Ari - a note on your wedding day

Kath read you the short version at the wedding, she has so many to read we had to shorten it! Here is the long version.

Ariane and David,

I hope that the sun found you first this morning.

You both have been such wonderful dear friends to me.

David, as Kaths dear friend, from the moment I met you, I felt that you immediately took on that brotherly protective role and I instatnly felt like family. When the going got tough and I needed to get out, and you knew my best friend, Kath was too far away, you stepped in and were there for me. In the beautiful Tweedie fashion that it is, I have always felt like family.

Ari, from the moment I met you, when we were all supposed to travel to Africa together (thank god that didn’t work out for me - could you imagine, you two falling in love with me on your tails! AWKWARD! ;-)) I fell in love with you. Your wit, your contagious laugh, and your unconditional and non-judgmental friendship was immediate. It led to many a glass of wine, and much laughter to tears, and long country-road bike rides, like life up some challenging hills. Being away from you, I miss your friendship a great deal.

I’ve had the privilege to watch you flourish as a couple. And, as a couple, you have been there for me together, supporting me, cheering me on and helping pick up the peices when required. Separately you are two special and remarkable people, together you are complete. I couldn’t think of two people better suited for each other.

I am sorry that I cannot be there, on this shiniest of days, but my heart laughs and smiles as I imagine the two of you walking down the aisle looking as beautiful and handsome as you ever will, taking an amazing step towards something good and true.

As you sit side by side through this roller coaster of life, remember to: scream from the peaks, hold hands through the dips, laugh through the loop-the-loops, and enjoy every twist and turn --for the ride is better because you share it together
I shall raise a glass here, as the sun sets, and toast you; two of the most beautiful people I know. I can’t wait to see you again as husband and wife, and maybe with a little one in a stroller????

Much love; Penny

Beautiful elegant ladies are flowers in the sunset

I went out for a short drive alone not to far from camp to a place called “gnupoo pan” called so because Andy had taken the kids there once and they were throwing poo at each other, gno poo, the poo of the wildebeest. I probably should have told you that after the fact, instead of prefacing this with it.....

Anyway I wanted to take in a solo sunset and I parked the vehicle next to a beautiful tree.

There were giraffe grazing by a small pool of water surveying their mirror image, and this beautiful lone mopane leaf itself watching the sunset.
Looking like an elegant lady with a full skirt, pointed toes, sharing the sunset with me. As the sun set, the light casting on the flower changed it’s image, like a chameleon it transformed from a beautiful elegant lady, to an eagle perched on a branch as if to adapt to it's new setting and fly off into the night.

The sound of solid silence

Being here in Moremi has provided me a strong encounter with nature and mother earth. Sitting in camp alone the other day, alone for the first time since march 1st, I sat wide eyed, on total alert and aware of everything. Completely plugged into the universe. I heard for the first time the sound of silence. It nearly struck me to the ground, so strong was the pressure. I felt so insignificant, so little, just a speck in the wilderness. Then a quiet tone from the depth of myself began to fill me up, and slowly the sound within  made me feel alive and strong again. I’ve read that what you hear when absolutely still is your life song. It made me feel so immensely alive yet appallingly alone, and in the same time in communion with some other mighty powers. They say that what you hear in absolute silence is that the high sound your nervous system, and the low sound is the roar of your blood pulsing through your veins. Perhaps it is my thoughts screaming by faster than I can think them. Or the reminiscing bells of far away, long ago, and what could have been done differently. And I wonder if my father can hear my thoughts. Can he hear the song I sing to the stars at night, and if I close my eyes can he hear my thoughts as they work back to him and I tell him I am cold and afraid in a big world I can’t understand, torn by my recent history the loss of him. Can he hear the dry scratch of a leaf across a square mile of sand in the kalahari desert where no feet will tread over today? I was quickly jolted by the sudden awareness of another layer in this silence, the entire orchestra of activity around me, the scrabbling of creatures, the song of the birds, the creak and bend of branches and the swish and sway of the dry grass as the wind blew over them, of course the baboons, and the stark realization that there is no absence of sound, but indeed solid silence.


It was then that I fully understood that nothing stands still, nothing is ever silent. The universe is always vibrating. Intuitively we know this, but I think we often forget because for the most part in most of our daily lives, when are we actually really still to realize this? Even here in the middle of the african bush surrounded daily by beauty and an awe inspiring environment, we still manage to get so caught up in out daily lives here with no T.V, no media messages that threaten to fracture and distort our collective perception of life , not even a box of breakfast cereal to scream it’s seductive desires at our impressionable minds, nowhere is that need for mass consumerism. Yes, even here without all those normal distractions, (or pehaps an easy excuse) we still go about our jobs and forget to stop and smell the “roses”. I am amazed by this. I am startled by this observation. I am still green, so every sunset stops me, though I will admit as time goes on I too have become engrained in what needs to get done next that my pause has become shorter and more fleeting, ashamedly so. As I watch the others, Graham for example, rush around in a hurry to “get it all done”. A days work. Never stopping to take in the sunset, or sunrise, or ele’s in camp, without a camera in front of his face. I had a chat with him, and later the same day when more ele’s came through camp, I made him sit and enjoy them without a camera. We work the life we love and love our work. But what is the point if you never stop to enjoy it? We could all do with a pause. Our world is saturated with unnecessary noise.

We went out the other morning and for the first time I heard the baritone performance of the ground hornbill. It was one of the most wonderful sounds I’ve heard here or anywhere for that matter. It was early morning and aside from their song the rest of my world was still and quite. It would now seem to me the mystery lies in the nature of the silence. This silence that comes from fullness and joy- a silence because there are no words that are sufficient.

Home Sweet Home - for Marissa and Roger

All in a days work

Laundry with Elephants, cooking and baking over an open fire, and taking in a sunset in your kitchen.
Sigh....

Nothing like doing laundry with elephants.....

Domestic diva

Amazing really, I know most of you will find this hard to believe but it's true, I've been cooking. In the bush no less where the amenities are scarce. Amazed by the ability to bake things with hot coals on the fire, and the fact that it makes me feel even more in tune with the bush and my inner survival mode I successfully made cabbage rolls.

I KNOW! Crazy isn't it!

Just a bunch of reckless baboons!

Today I had to spend the day alone in camp. ABSOLUTELY alone, no camp hand, just me. There is only Graham, myself and a camp hand in camp at the moment. Brad is off filming crocs. Graham had to go to Maun for a supply run and to pick up Pricka, and bring Legae home. Camp can not be left alone so that left me to “man” the fort.

No worries, I will simply leave the electric fence on all day and not dare venture beyond it and if I have to use the long drop I will drive there. No biggie I have this all covered. Really there is little to worry about.

Except maybe baboons and monkeys. Which, you would think would be fine, just yell and chase them away. Right? Harmless little fellows.

So there I was enjoying for the first time since March 1st, in absolute solitude. Completely alone in the african wilderness, listening to the wind and the birds...... AND THE BABOONS! I looked up and there was a big old boy sitting in the drivers seat of the vehicle. Hands on steering wheel, I kid you not. I didn’t think to grab a camera, my reaction was to chase him and the rest of his troop away before they get into all the tents and the kitchen. (in hindsight would have been a cool picture)

And so I grabbed the closet thing to me, a glass bottle, and I ran after them (you can paint this picture for yourself) yelling “go away you pests and every other name in the book, and throwing everything I could find on the ground along the way. To which they responded with the most sarcastic, superior look on their faces. A nod at me and they slowly made their way on by, unscathed by my verbal abuse.

HRMPH!

You see baboons and monkeys are sexist. I kid you not. They are full on sexist animals!!! They will not listen to women, women do not scare them.

Eventually they went on their way, in no rush from me I might add, and I returned to my day. Not an hour later in came another troop of baboons marching in. I think the first troop went on to tell the rest of the baboons in Moremi that there was indeed a women alone in camp and they should hightail it over there for a good laugh.

Being the feminist that I am, I have little patience for this unruly behavior and stand determined to stand up for my rights as a women. So I say bring it on Bitc@£!’s!!!!!!! And they did, oh they brought it on, they danced around me, climbed up into the shower and jumped down in front of me, all the while me banging a hatchet against a pan to make noise, running towards them growling. Yes growling, was hoping this deep (more manly) sound would show them who is boss. At which point I managed to step in baboon shit. And you thought I was on a mission before..... now, now I am really angry. I look up and I imagine my father is probably laughing his deep belly laugh right now, I am certain he is getting great amusement out of all of this. In fact this is the sort of thing that he would just love to see and sit back and laugh at. Baboon shit on my foot, making for a rather slippery step I continue on with my yelling and growling, still rendering useless. With my throat sore and hoarse from yelling, I surrender these attempts to be futile.

Once again they sauntered on their way, and I promise you one was sticking his tongue out at me while his brother laughed out loud holding his stomach and pointing at me. Me with baboon shit on foot, sweaty from running, hair a mess and stuck to my face, pot and hatchet in hand, head bowed in defeat.

Seriously frustrated, though painfully humored by my own behavior and the crime scene of skewed bits all around camp I still sit here and swear I will aim to bridge the gap between the wild world of the baboon and the civilized world of women, their human cousins.

Until next time my furry nose picking, own feces eating, sexist little buggers; until next time..........

like a bird on a dead tree