Sometimes we go to a game park and see ‘nothing.’ Just the old elephant bull and his eyes that seem to penetrate our dark souls, reading us like we’re a page in his book, drama unfolding.
Or the rhinos in mid charge, in a cloud of red dust and with a swarm of blood-sucking flies, following faithfully – indifferent to us.
Or the giraffe that casually peers over the top of an acacia tree; her head and neck being cleared of ticks and other annoying insects. She watches us with interest; fumbling for cameras and binoculars and grunting some sounds she has no understanding of. She takes another mouthful of leaves and walks on.
But the buffalo – moody, irritable – and glaring at us with one eye, daring us to come nearer – imagining what it would be like to ram his left horn into the shiny hard body. “Is it possible to get some peace in this place?”
As for the impala, he hears the rumbling of the idling engine. But he’s seen so many of us – noisy obnoxious animals – and he’s bored now.
The ‘red billed ox pecker plunges it’s sharp beak into his ear, instantly relieving him of an annoying ‘itch.’ The ‘rumbles of the engine’ become quieter – slowly moving off into the distance, disappearing altogether. And peaceful preening resumes.