5th August 2019
There was cloud in the sky at dawn. That thin blanket of cloud that looks like fish scales. The sun was just about to peep over the Chimanimani mountains. Golden ‘fish scales’ now filled the eastern sky. Slowly they lost their colour and were soon a brilliant white against the deep blue. I was at Mbirikiri pan.
The grasses are still deep green with a few small areas of surface water. The pan is about 150m in diameter, flanked in the east by small Acacias, a few tall Fever trees and a lone Nyala berry. The flat ground of the pan continues to the north and is fairly open with a few small Acacias. The south and west are flanked by several big Nyala berry trees. Sacred Ibis with their long bills were constantly on the move dipping them into the soft muddy shallows searching for any little wetland creature. A lone Great White Egret, far more elegant in its hunting method, stood motionless amongst them staring down potential prey that might be disturbed by the Ibis’s. Several Open-bill Storks were also hunting in the mix. I was suddenly alerted by excited chirping in the Nyala berry next to me. A Pied Kingfisher all happy with himself had caught a dragonfly larva and was busy beating its brains out on the branch, making sure it was properly dead before sending it down the hatch. As it warmed up, it was a very warm morning anyway, baboons came from the south to drink and eat nyala-berries. A herd of impala followed them in, not only to drink but also to score from the berries the baboons dropped out the tree. A small herd of kudu joined the masses for a drink, but didn’t stay long and headed back south. Two impala males, loaded with testosterone, had little interest in berries. They locked horns, pushing and shoving each other around, kicking up dust, while the baboons and other impala just carried on berry hunting seemingly oblivious to their desperate struggle to pummel each other. The wrestling was one-sided and soon the victor chased after his opponent roaring his victory cry as he did. The social in the south went on for quite some time until the baboons moved off west and the impala followed. As if waiting for them to leave, a lone wildebeest came in from the south, drank, then getting down on his knees had his own wrestling match with the mud tossing it around on his horns. There seems to be something very therapeutic about this action. While he was digging away an unexpected family of bush-pigs arrived. They’re nocturnal animals, but I think the sudden warm weather had driven them to the pan after sunrise to wallow. They were so cool to see just chilling on the waters’ edge. One of the youngsters thought he might challenge the wildebeest and approached to within a couple of meters, but when the wildebeest stopped to look at him he bolted. They all soon left disappearing into the bush to the south leaving the Ibis’s and storks to carry in their frantic pursuit of little creatures. It was already late morning and left them too…
they can all chill and the prey animals can destress hopefully knowing they won’t be eaten. Well so it seemed last night. I did follow up on some impala alarm calls and a jackal shouting in the same area but came up empty handed. The herds of impala where in their usual areas. The giraffe mainly south of the river where they seem to nursery their young. Wildbeest scattered around and a few zebra. Some eland were in the tall riverine having come to feed on Nyala berries. Kudu were along the river bank. I heard elephants in the mopane to the north. Lions, leopards and hyaenas were quiet as the new moon disappeared early below the horizon. Quiet as it was, it’s always just bliss being out there.
Appearing the other side she shuffled quickly across the track and disappeared into the dense undergrowth. Not being able to follow her I drove on a little down the track and stopped to listen. A Scops owl was calling from a tall Acacia. Eventually, with all quiet, I decided to try and photograph the vulture silhouettes against the stars. Heading back on the track I’d come along I was shining my spotlight from side to side. It was very open to my north. To the south, young Acacias blocked my view. Then through a clearing I saw some eyes. I took the gap, the Acacias doing a good job of scratching Joanie. Ahead of me was that donga (gully) from the cyclone and on the other side were 2 leopards! The male had joined up with the female. He was chilled but she immediately ducked into the donga. He didn’t lose time, followed her into the donga, and I just had to sit there and listen to them mating. A most awesome sound! A short while later she left the donga using every little bush she could to conceal herself, sneaking across in front of me until she reached an Acacia tree.
It was nearly a week ago now when I heard many extra rattles coming from Joanie. I pulled up on a clear sandy bar where I could crawl around in the clean soft sand and do a good investigation of the underneath of Joanie. It wasn’t long and I found several rattles with some steel pipes from the bull-bar broken. A closer look revealed a seriously broken chassis. The cross member in front was broken cleanly off on both sides. All just years and years of metal fatigue and of course with a little rough driving thrown in… I took it easy back to camp and then the long process started.
