12:50, 19 November, 2012

There were some lions in camp during the day one Sunday afternoon.  I was sitting in my tent doing some work, when all of a sudden I heard the roar and subsequent whuffing of a lion extraordinarily close to my tent.  Had I thought to unzip my window, I probably would have seen it through the brush on the fire break, where only minutes later Charlie and I went to look and found some enormous paw prints.  Literally 20 meters from my tent at most.  And during the day!  What kind of a lion is awake and moving around during the day?  We cautiously followed the prints for a bit, but although their pattern showed the lion had only been walking, it was nowhere to be seen.

Coming home from Fig Tree territory, we were fortunate enough to witness lion “whuffing,” as Joy Adamson has very appropriately termed it in her book Elsa.  A very large black-maned lion walked along the road, appearing very powerful in the surrounding darkness.  With each step he gave off a deep, resounding, gruff, whuffing breath, the type that typically follows a roar, and the sort of sound that would make me run deep into my den hole were I a hyena cub.  The darkness swallowed him sinisterly, and I shivered in thought of being an antelope in his path.  Although who am I kidding?  He’s a male lion.  Male lions hunt about 7% of their food...likely better to be an antelope than a hyena in its path, who might be senselessly killed and left uneaten.

Speaking of mighty jungle kings, there are three of the stockiest black-maned lions I have ever seen living in Prozac territory.  The other morning was apparently a male lion morning, as we saw two subadult males and one big male on our way to the territory, and then these three macho men to top it off.  They were striking, and one looked me right in the eyes as it walked past, something I that still makes me pause.  It’s one of my favorite things in the world to look into a lion’s eyes; one is immediately lost in their bottomless expression. 

But lions can be crazily cute too, not just mighty.  You watch them play like the subadult batting its oversized paw at a younger cub’s head I saw, and instantly love them despite all their misdeeds toward hyenas.  And it’s not just the young ones.  I love how big males sometimes sit.  A blondie a few afternoons ago sat with both his paws cupped toward him, making a circle out in front, and just sat there blinking up at the tourists beneath his luxurious mane with an expression like my cat sometimes gives me at home when content.  And lionesses will run and give “hugs” at times, wrapping their paws around one another, and I often see them rubbing heads.  It’s incredibly sweet.

One more thing on lions, before my job is retracted.  We saw Evacassidy and Script, two lionesses from Serena last summer, on this side of the river way back in July!  I finally got around to identifying some of the photos I’ve taken for Dave, and about fell over to find that they had crossed the river.  Something tumultuous must have taken place in the lion world, because the individuals from last year are spread all over the place.  I haven’t identified a single lion who is the same in Talek territory, Cascada and David Bowie either moved considerably east or have quite an enormous territory, and now Evacassidy and Script seem to have moved given the Mara River offers a natural territorial boundary (or so I assume).  Field work is fascinating!  It continually boggles my mind that animals live such fascinating lives, completely overlooked.  Our eye witness is not required for their lives to be complex and valuable in their own right, which is part of why I get frustrated with the view that field studies must contain some benefit for humans beyond increasing our understanding of other species.  They are incredible, and there is just so much we don’t know.

Babies babies everywhere!  Baby hyenas, baby lions, baby leopards, baby cheetahs.  We saw a mom with two baby cheetahs a couple nights ago, their hair everywhere, a sixties and seventies American dream.  Baby warthogs...if I haven’t mentioned these before, warthog piglets are TO DIE FOR adorable.  Miniature pumbas everywhere!  (I think I drive the guys nuts having to stop and take pictures every other time we see a family of warthogs...I hope some are still small when my family comes!)  Then there are baby topis and baby impala, baby zebra.  Baby topis are another thing that just kill me every time.  They look like sandy-colored miniature female moose, and are so dopey-looking as to be completely irresistible.  There were just oodles of gangly little guys all over the place a month ago (of which I also snapped a disproportionate amount of photos); now most of them are already popping little horns.  I wonder if getting horns hurts like teething does?  I also wonder when young topi become painted  the dark brown and black of their parents?  At least I will discover the answer to the second question.  Baby impala are graceful cuties – something like a deer fawn, but solidly colored and daintier if possible.  And baby zebra...ay yai!  Kicking their little legs up to the side and all their stripes squeezed together over their tiny faces, faces accented with eyes taking in as much as they can of this newly discovered life in a world that only just began to exist.  I will be sad when baby season is over with.  So will the wildebeest we saw yesterday morning, because she will be out of a job.  This wildebeest was off by herself away from all the other adults, lying down surrounded by seven or eight young wildebeest.  They all stood up when we drove by and walked off in a clump with her.  I’ve never seen such an argument for babysitting in nature!

Horses aren’t the only equines who enjoy a good roll.  Once I could not figure out what in the heck was happening at Camel Crossing as we drove close in the height of the dry season.  An enormous cloud of dust rose into the air, and I thought it must be terribly windy, or maybe there was a vehicle stirring things up that I couldn’t see.  But neither of those was the case; some zebra was rolling its heart out and sending this dust-devil wall into the air.  Since then I have seen them rolling in the middle of the road several times.  One near Suicide Crossing looked absolutely awesome as it galloped off, dust streaming off its back as though it had some turbo speed super power.

Finally saw some crocodiles in the Talek!!!!  Been waiting for what seems like forever.  Lasingo came to camp one morning and led Charlie and I to where he had spotted one.  He held his finger to his lips and pointed to the rock ledge on the other side, left of where we jump the river.  It was a youngish one, became frightened when it saw us and scrambled off.  I also saw a larger one sunning itself on a sandbank by where the river bends below Kay’s tent.  It had its mouth sitting wide open as it laid there with its eyes closed – it looked like the crocodile equivalent of women who lie back with cucumbers over their eyes.  Sometimes a hippo burps from the same area this crocodile was, making me smile if I’m working at the desk outside Kay’s tent.