South African Giraffe and their Calves

South African Giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis giraffa)

Some of our fondest memories of our trip to Botswana in the summer of 2009 were the times we encountered the gentle South African Giraffe. I forget who in our Landcruiser spotted the chestnut-brown and buff fur through the trees of the African savanna on first morning at Stanley’s Camp.

Our guide, Poniso, immediately stopped the car and we quietly waited to see if this giraffe will reveal herself. Within a minute of motionless silence, this giraffe cow stepped out of the camouflage of the acacia tree into the open as if to admit defeat in a game of hide and seek.  We were taken by her beauty and couldn’t believe our good fortune as we viewed her through our camera lenses. When our shutters stopped snapping, Poniso whispered to us that she was hiding a calf.  

We all quickly scanned the landscape until we finally saw the rump of a small giraffe hidden behind the large tree trunk on the left, below the light spot where an elephant has stripped the bark bare. Click on the photo to see a hint To see this photo in original size click here.

We now understood why this mother stepped out of hiding so quickly; she placed herself in a vulnerable position to protect a calf. 

*** 

Three days later, at Chief’s Camp, we stumbled upon another giraffe cow and calf. 

We can’t assume that this is the calf’s mother because chances are good that this cow is watching several calves in a nursery herd while other giraffe cows browse for acacia leaves. The giraffe male does not assist in parental care because would be impossible to defend the vast terrain required to supply the large quantity of food he needs to stay healthy. Without a defined territory, he does not know which calves are his. Thus the female giraffes pool together their resources and form what amounts to a babysitting co-op.

The calf’s tawny brown spots are lighter than an adult’s, giving it an even more endearing appearance. I’m sure you can imagine our muffled squeals of delight when we got a close view of this curious calf.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers who bond together and form a village to raise their young.

South African (or Southern) Giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis giraffa) and Red-billed Oxpeckers (Buphagus erythrorhynchus)

________

Resource:

"Introduction to the Social System of Giraffe (Giraffa Camelopardalis)." Biology @ Davidson. Web. 08 May 2011. <http://www.bio.davidson.edu/people/vecase/Behavior/Spring2004/breedlove/parentalcare.html> .

Macro Monday - Crocodile Recollections

When talented sculptor Patrick Gracewood published a post about crocodiles a few days ago, I was inspired to write about my recollections about crocodiles.

My first memory of crocodiles was in 1960 when we were ready to leave Java for my mother’s native land, The Netherlands. Indonesia’s spiraling inflation triggered the rupiah’s devaluation thus forcing my parents to invest their available cash in material goods. Their challenge was in finding goods that were easy to transport and not subject to stiff import duties. Even though I was only five years old, and my sisters eight and ten, we were dripping in solid gold bracelets, necklaces and rings as we boarded the Garuda airplane. Jewelry that was worn was not subject to duty fees. My mother also selected high-quality, compact Balinese sculptures and paintings plus two crocodile purses and one large crocodile suitcase. The concept of conservation and the term “politically correct” had not been invented yet. For my parents, it was a matter of survival.

It was fun to wear all the jewelry, but they quickly became a nuisance and their novelty wore off almost immediately. Of all the goods my parents bought, I was most intrigued with the crocodile luggage.

I loved endlessly stroking my fingers across the rich brown reptilian armor. I shuddered at the thought of encountering the animal that bore the high-ridged scales now running along the length of the suitcase. My mother noticed my fascination and told me that she planned to sell as many of our new purchases as soon as we landed in Amsterdam so that we would have cash. I was crushed. As luck would have it, or maybe by design, my mother never sold the crocodile goods. Until our last day in Holland. The couple that gave us a ride to Rotterdam admired our luggage and my parents sold all three pieces on the spot. I still remember how the attractive young wife pranced around with glee with the suitcase in one hand and a purse in the other.

In all likelihood, the crocodile the Indonesians used was the Saltwater Crocodile, (Crocodylus porosus), the largest of all living reptiles. Never again in my life did I ever see a crocodile suitcase that was as large, with ridges as high, and color as deep as the suitcase we owned for six years. Mostly, I think that is a good thing.

***

Last year, we visited the Cuando (Chobe) River in Botswana along the Namibian border. We arrived in time to see the elephants bathing in the river at sunset. It was easy to get caught up in observing the elephants’ social behavior in their tightly knit social groups. All our camera lenses zoomed out to the max, hoping to catch the antics of the baby elephants, still learning how to use their trunks. It wasn’t until our son gasped “Waaaa!” that we realized that two large crocodiles were right under our nose. I was more than a little unnerved to see these menacing creatures up close.

Over the next couple of days, we saw about a dozen Nile Crocodiles (Crocodylus niloticus). All were camouflaged artfully in their surroundings, like this pair catching the last rays of the sunset:

Having trouble seeing them? Here’s is a close-up of one; the other is out of frame, further up the riverbank on the right.

The only time I was actively concerned about my safety was when Poniso, our guide, pulled the bow of the boat up on the bank and then killed the engine.

Without wanting to sound an alarm, I gave a tiny squeal of concern. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s not coming after us. Look how full his belly is. He’s just had a full meal.”, Poniso rationalized. What if the engine won’t start up? What if he’s thinking about a little dessert? I can read it on his face.

He still looks pretty hungry to me.

Never have I been so relieved to hear an engine start up. I don’t mind a little adventure, but I don’t believe in pressing my luck.

Speaking of pressing one’s luck. We saw a young adult on another boat with his legs dangling over the edge of the boat and his bare feet ankle-deep in the water. Brrrr! This is an apt time to cite the delightful little Lewis Caroll poem that Patrick Gracewood found:

How doth the little crocodile 

Improve his shining tail,

And pour the waters of the Nile

On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,

How neatly spread his claws,

And welcome little fishes in

With gently smiling jaws!

.....Lewis Caroll

Thank you Patrick for inspiring me to write this post. Please pop over to his blog to read his post about some beautiful crocodile sculptures.

Please visit lisaschaos, the lovely home of Macro Mondays.

Happy Mother's Day to Sweet Mothers

Happy Mother's Day to Sweet Mothers Around the World!

"Sweet Mother" by Prince Nico MbaRGA

Wordless Wednesday - Red Lechwe Antelope (Kobus Leche)

More Wordless Wednesdays here and Outdoor Wednesday here.

Peaceable Kingdom in Botswana

The Peaceable Kingdom, circa 1846, Edward Hicks (1780-1849),
oil on canvas, 25 x 28 1/2 (63.5 x 72.4 cm), Gift of Mr. and Mrs. John D. Rockefeller 3rd
Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco


Quaker folk artist, Edwards Hicks (1780-1849), created a series of over 60 paintings called “The Peaceable Kingdom” in which he depicts an animal kingdom where predators and prey lie next to each other in peace.

I always found this to be a compelling image but I never thought I would ever be witness to anything close to this ideal. When I researched our big trip to the Okavango Delta in Botswana, I would run across countless magnificent close-up images of African wildlife, but it was less common to see images of multiple species in the same photo. Once in a while I would run into illustrations that would feature giraffes, wildebeests, and zebras all artfully posed on the same plain and I would judge it to be contrived. The brochures didn't give me a sense of the density and diversity of animals I could expect to see.

Though predators did not exactly lie next to prey, I was surprised to see how many species shared the same space in a peaceful coexistence. I was amazed to see these Burchell's Zebras sloshing in the same waters as the Red Lechwe antelopes...

Burchell's Zebra (Equus quagga burchellii ) and Red Lechwe (Kobus leche leche )


...and grazing alongside a giraffe in front of a staff cabin at Chief's Camp...

Burchell's Zebra (Equus quagga burchellii) and Southern Giraffe(Giraffa camelopardalis giraffa)


I was astonished when I saw these giraffes quietly nibbling acacia leaves in the same field as this wildebeest...

Southern Giraffe(Giraffa camelopardalis giraffa) and Common Wildebeest (Connochaetes taurinus)


...and delighted when a herd of impalas joined the gathering:

Impala(Aepyceros melampus) and Common Wildebeest (Connochaetes taurinus)


I was perfectly content as I lulled myself into thinking that this real-life peaceable kingdom was the status quo. I oohed and aahed when I saw these impressive trees laden with large nests...

...and was captivated as we approached and saw two species of vultures in side-by-side trees:

Hooded Vulture (Necrosyrtes monachus))

Hooded Vulture (Necrosyrtes monachus))

White-backed Vulture (Gyps africanus))


We cooed when someone in our group noticed that one of the nests was occupied:

White-backed Vulture (Gyps africanus))


We felt fortunate to stumble upon a lion, even though he was sound asleep...

Lion (Panthera leo))

...and another, in an equal state of stupor:

Lion (Panthera leo))


But then I smelled the putrid odor. Why did I not put two and two together? How did I think these carnivores sustained themselves?

So much for the peaceable kingdom; lions do not lay next to lamb. Yet, this is the perfect balance of nature. We are in the wild; there are no fences here in the Moremi Game Reserve. Maybe the peaceable kingdom is one that sustains an enduring, stable equilibrium within an ecosystem. I think that is the true wonder we witnessed.

UPDATE: Ruth of Synch-ro-ni-zing shared this perfect poem for this post:

The Heaven of Animals
By James L. Dickey

Here they are. The soft eyes open.
If they have lived in a wood
It is a wood.
If they have lived on plains
It is grass rolling
Under their feet forever.

Having no souls, they have come,
Anyway, beyond their knowing.
Their instincts wholly bloom
And they rise.
The soft eyes open.

To match them, the landscape flowers,
Outdoing, desperately
Outdoing what is required:
The richest wood,
The deepest field.

For some of these,
It could not be the place
It is, without blood.
These hunt, as they have done,
But with claws and teeth grown perfect,

More deadly than they can believe.
They stalk more silently,
And crouch on the limbs of trees,
And their descent
Upon the bright backs of their prey

May take years
In a sovereign floating of joy.
And those that are hunted
Know this as their life,
Their reward: to walk

Under such trees in full knowledge
Of what is in glory above them,
And to feel no fear,
But acceptance, compliance.
Fulfilling themselves without pain

At the cycle’s center,
They tremble, they walk
Under the tree,
They fall, they are torn,
They rise, they walk again.

Thank you, Ruth, you are the best!

I will leave you with the original version of the African song "Mbube", written by Solomon Linda...

... and the version by The Tokens, named "The Lion Sleeps Tonight", that brought the song to fame in America is here.

Macro Monday - Water Lilies at the Okavango Delta

Ten minutes after we first encountered Tripod, we arrived at Chief’s Camp, situated at the lip of a rich flood plain of the Okavango Delta. We sipped a cup of warm rooibos tea on the back deck of the lodge.

Across the flood plain, we observed a giraffe...

...quietly nibble the tender leaves of an acacia bush.

Later we were invited explore our exotic "back yard" in a faux-dugout canoe called a mokoro. I sat flat on the floor of the boat with my feet pointed towards the bow while my gentle guide propelled the
boat forward like a Venetian gondolier. It was comforting to silently glide through the water after our usual roaring through the wilderness in the open Landcruiser.

My guide, whose name I've regretfully forgotten, was boundlessly patient and stopped the boat each time I greedily snapped photo after photo with the water surface only inches from my lens.

 I saw my son shake his head at me with a smile of great relief as he and his dad faded into the distance. What a luxury to creep through the reeds without feeling guilt for slowing down the expedition and without having to explain to my travel partners that I took these photos simply because I loved the colors...

...and that I needed yet another photo just because this was a different aquatic plant:

My guide pulled out one of the water hyacinths and expressed the clear liquid out of the bulb that floats just below the blossom. He told me, in very good English, that the local people use this liquid as medicine to treat river blindness, also known as Robles' Disease (Oncocerciasis), caused by a nematode worm.

He went on to say: "I see you like the water lilies. I will make you a necklace." I was eager to learn what he meant by this. He began by pulling out a water lily with a stalk that seemed to go on forever:

Then I heard a "snap... snap... snap ..." at an even tempo.

I turned around again and saw that he snapped the stalk at one inch intervals without severing it completely and slid off the outermost fibers down about another inch. He repeated this from the opposite sides of the stalk...

...until he finished snapping the entire stalk. He tied the ends to finish this beautiful fresh necklace from nature and ceremoniously handed it to me:

I proudly wore my new jewelry as we continued our ride. By this time my husband and son were completely out of sight.  We stopped to view the Little Bee-eater (Merops pusillus)

Some of you already met the Painted Reed Frog during a Macro Monday last November; here's another one:

We caught up with the other boat and my son pointed out a hippo in the distance. We clambered out of the boat onto a termite hill and zoomed our cameras for a photo .

At the end the ride, my guide stopped the boat one more time, patiently waiting for me to notice more wildlife. I felt completely dense. I did not see a thing, only grass:

I turned around and gave my best quizzical look.

"Look closely," he said, "it's green."

And then I saw it. Eegads! I suddenly had the urge to take inventory of the boat and check to see if I was carrying any hitchhikers.

Spiders and tarantulas don't bother me one bit, but I get the willies when an animal has no legs. If you have any desire to see a larger version of the Olive Whip Snake, click here.

Slightly relieved that we weren't going to be brushing up against any more reeds, we docked back at the camp and I looked forward to showing off my new necklace at dinner.

Please visit Lisa's Chaos to view more Macro Monday posts.