The wind blows strong and
steady, keeping the flies down. We expect to see little on the drive
to the lodge in this mid-day burning sun, but we are pleasantly surprised.
Zebra are plentiful, as are impala. We also see the smaller Thomson's
Gazelle, or 'Tommies,' and even a small herd of oxen-like eland. By
way of birds we see ostrich (the worldís largest bird), secretary
birds (which comically look as though theyíre wearing knickers), and
a million 'superb' starlings, whose iridescent blue color makes them
live up to their name. Wildebeest (gnu) roam with the zebra and antelope
- so many creatures living off the same land. A so-called 'grazing
succession' explains the mass and variety of grazers that can exist
in one area simultaneously. The heavy grazers, elephants and buffalo,
eat large coarse grasses, causing changes in the vegetation that favor
zebras and wildebeest, who in turn prepare the vegetation for the
lightest herbivores, the gazelles and warthogs.
The elephants of Tarangire are hidden, but
Tobias reassures us that we will see them soon. We arrive at the lodge,
a line of permanent tents set on a ridge overlooking a vast plain
with the mostly dry Tarangire River cutting through it. As if in a
movie, we see the elephants 100 yards below us, ripping up the brush
or standing silently in the ample shade of the umbrella acacia. Farther
out roam antelope, wildebeest, and zebra, singly and in large herds.
Wildebeest and zebra are often seen roaming together. The zebras eat
the tall grass, and the wildebeest (who can harvest more grass per
mouthful than any other grazer) follow behind, eating the shorter
grasses that remain. The zebras have good eyesight, the wildebeest
have a good sense of smell. It is an effective symbiotic relationship.
The animals tend to congregate at the river, the only source of water
in the area during the dry season. Rising from the savanna we hear
the barking of zebras, a cross between the bark of a dog and the bray
of a donkey. As we would prefer ourselves, most creatures huddle in
the shade to escape the oppressive sun.
Giraffes are visible, if you scan the distance carefully. Their tan
and rust colorations are wonderful camouflage, and we only notice
them when their long limbs begin to amble silently across the plain.
Standing beneath the tall acacias, their long necks reach up to sample
the leaves, appearing almost as a second tree trunk.
A thousand birds of endless variety are in
constant song, quieting the incessant wind. The elephants wallow in
a pool of water and mud, playing, cooling down, and consuming some
of the 60 gallons of water they need each day. They emerge from the
pool shiny and black, the babies dutifully tagging along behind the
matriarch. The panorama before me is all that I had hoped for, yet
not really expected in this modern-day, heavily-touristed, and over-poached
Africa.
We moved into our tent, complete with hot
shower and flush toilet, and returned to the open air dining room
for lunch. Afterwards we took photos of the elephants a stone's throw
below us, and wondered whether they ever ventured into camp. We wondered
whether, during the night, the invisible border would be crossed between
our island of civilization and the surrounding sea of savanna wilderness.
Taking a cue from the animals, we escape to
the shade of our luxurious tent, and siesta before our first afternoon
game drive in Tarangire. Staring out at the endless plains, populated
more by animals than by humans, it is hard to believe that there is
a need to protect such an expansive, seemingly balanced ecosystem.
How unfortunate that incredible forces both internal and external
force Africa to cannibalize her own riches. |
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