Evening Game Drive

“September, October is the best time to come to Kruger,” Salani, our ranger tells us.  But we are here now, in April, when the animals hide deep in the long grass.  I don’t mind though.  I am no longer so greedy for sightings of the big five, to see lion with a fresh kill, mothers with newborn babies.   I am happy just to be out in the breezy, warm afternoon sun, driving again through the South African bush.

An hour into the drive, the sun is on its way down, lending her brilliance to the land, coaxing the gold from the long autumn grasses, lighting the rose tips like thousands of tiny flames.   The air is soft, warm, and full of bush smells.   Grass and dust, musky and animal, wild mint and light flower perfume.  When we dip steeply into a riverbed crossing, the temperature drops noticeably and the sharp scent of water and rocks fills our nostrils.   As we climb back up, the engine rumbles low like a lion’s soft warning roar.  Warm air and earthy grass smells envelop us again, and the engine’s growl  is drowned out by the clicking of crickets.  

Animal sightings are few on this trip.  Someone in our party, eager to see something, cries out, “Stop, what is that over there.  Oh, never mind. . . it is just a tree stump.”  It won’t be the last time one of us, our eyes straining to be the first to spot something, calls out excitedly  for us to look – what moments before had surely been an animal is now a rock, a fallen tree, a bush in shadow.  

And then my favorite part.  We stop for sundowners in an open field.   Glass of wine in hand, I can walk out into the grasses, immersed in the smells and sounds and feel.  The sun, though very low now, is still warm on our skin, no need for a jacket yet.  But, anticipating, I can feel the first faint licks of evening’s chill on my bare arms.   

Back driving, the sunset does not disappoint.  It is everything you want, lasting over half an hour.   Gold and pink with rays shooting up; you expect to see Jesus rising like in a religious painting.   Then red and slate grey clouds, and finally that deep blue with a sliver of rose where the sun has dropped deep below the horizon.   Only once the sun is truly gone do I need to slip on my jacket.

Then the spotlight comes out. Salani sweeps it back and forth, up in the trees, down to the grass, tracing the contours of the landscape with his light.   We marvel at his skill when he stops, puts the vehicle in reverse and shines the light high in a bush, pointing out a small lime green chameleon.   During my first couple of night game drives, I used to will the sweeping light to catch yellow leopard eyes, revealing that elusive night animal, tucked in the crook of a tree.  Now, as we drive, I am content to feel the changing air, smell the nighttime scents, watch the stars appear one by one and then thousands suddenly all at once. 

So I am surprised by how much my heart quickens when white breast glowing in the spotlight is a stock still Giant Eagle Owl perched on a tree branch.   We watch her as she slowly swivels her large head to look behind and then back to us. 

When Salani moves the light off the owl, puts the Land Cruiser in gear and we drive away,  I’m full.  The rest of the drive washes over me.   I feel blessed to have once again witnessed the ordinary and extraordinary of the bush transforming from day to night.