Botswana
Kalahari and the Termite Mound (1975) opus 69
| 15 January 2023 1500 Hours | | Kalahari, Botswana, Lesotho, Zoology |
We were immersed in the Kalahari Desert of Botswana, which surrounded us.
From our Lesotho base south of us,
Many miles had passed to reach this"idyllic" place.
Among us from the University, were an English retired District Governor, John.
His wife, a German intellectual, Shirley,
A Dutch demographer, Gerhard Schmitz,
And the wonderfully naive Librarian (I forget his name)
From New England, who wished to tag along.
I was resident biologist, there to observe and collect.
So many events unfolded during this expedition.
Perhaps after some time, I might be able to relate a few.
On this particular morning, the Librarian and I set out on foot to view large game;
There was a lion kill we must visit to check the consumption from that past night.
The day was bright and full of all that Africa could offer.
As we moved through the beautiful tall, lush grasses,
Farther and farther from our parked Land Rover,
We saw aways away a bull elephant, slowly grazing quietly in our direction.
I scrutinized the area just to have a good 'lay of the land'.
Near the grassy opening, amongst the trees
Were a large number of giant termite mounds.
(Termites, of course, were the impetus during our human evolution,
Offering, once discovered as a food source, that pulse of protein,
Which allowed the extra energy source to feed our ever-increasing brains!)
I grabbed the Librarian's arm and commanded him to run with me
Towards the waiting pillars of insect- constructed soil.
As we ran, I directed, when by the mound,
To jump straight to the right, behind it.
I followed, also abruptly shifting to the right, out of sight.
The huge pachyderm thundered past us,
Not detecting our quick moves, because of poor eyesight!
Saved from destruction by a beast with poor eyesight.
We watched as it plunged onward into the bush
And we, much relieved, turned back towards our vehicle,
With yet another adventurous episode under our fragile belts.
The Aardvark Hole opus 91
| 12 February 2023 1640 Hours | | Kalahari, Botswana, Zoology |
Once again, we are in the Kalahari of Botswana.
A convoy of three Land Rovers slowly moving through the grassy Kalahari Desert.
We moved and camped; one inch of water per day in a basin
For washing of socks and/or parts of the body!
It was on an afternoon, moving towards Drotsky's Cave.
Suddenly the lead vehicle collapsed
With the left front wheel, falling into an Aardvark den-hole.
It was towards dusk and far from our camping destination.
The hole was deep and proposed a challenge, indeed!
Pulling with another vehicle alone proved fruitless.
A log was scrounged, a jack balanced thereon,
And, with the heightened level and great, skillful driving,
The vehicle was relievedly freed.
This moment was a renewed reminder to us all,
As to how precarious were our movements through this land,
Far from civilization and always near unaided catastrophe.
But how could one, when challenged with such,
Not partake in these wonderful but dangerous adventures?
The SinkHole opus 95
| 19 February 2023 1000 Hours | | Mortality, Botswana, Family, Kalahari |
We were on a University safari in the Kalahari, Botswana.
We had explored the Drotsky's Cave area and other local points of interest.
Now the geologists wished to explore a special remote sinkhole.
I, the biologist, went along, studying my own subjects.
After several days of Land Rover driving,
We arrived at a wide opening on the flat African landscape.
I remember a grassy, treed area--not quite a true savannah.
Much climbing gear, with many lengths of rappelling line was hauled out of boxes.
Camp was set up and evening cooking alleviating much pending hunger!
Next morning, with a beautiful winter (Southern Hemisphere) sun.
Each explorer started the descent into the deep darkness.
Instructions and descriptions were called up from the cavern.
(We had no communication devices, except our clear, projected voices.)
A long vertical distance of just a hanging downwardness,
Finally to contact with a sloping wall,
And then a rappelling to a flat floor of the deep hole.
There appeared to be no tunnels nor exits outward.
All who were descending had done so and my turn had come.
Truthfully, I was not enthralled to hang in darkness,
Reaching a nondescript floor and gaze around.
I had also just gone through a dramatic Cesarean with my first son, Pierre.
My head swam with thoughts of what to do.
Was I to appear as a coward amongst the others?
Was I to be an absent hero for my faraway family?
They had not a clue just what I was confronting.
Was a line to snap and I would fall to certain death?
Was I to truly be missing the experience of my life,
By deciding it would be completely foolish
To take a gamble--similar gambles in my earlier life
To which I would never have hesitated?
This was truly a most difficult moment of decision--
Seldom would one have had such an opportunity--
Stories for future devoted and adhering grandchildren!
I just could not do it. In the end,
I just could not do it. . . .
My fear of death was overcome by my need for life.
The Rewilding of Humanity opus 189
| 11 September 2023 0900 Hours | | Kalahari, Botswana, Mammalogy, Zoology |
A dear friend, after listening to a book lecture by Jessica Carew Kraft,
Sent me a copy of Kraft's book--'Why We Need to be Wild'.
The friend raved about the talk and thought of me immediately.
Kraft spoke of how humans have become so disconnected from nature,
And how to rewild ourselves back to health.
I do live on a small farm, harvested food gardens, raised fish,
Free raised turkeys and geese, and even worked with the African bee.
I have worked with raptors and the art of falconry which went with that.
And on and on, so I guess it was not a surprise she sent me the book.
Specifically, my thoughts homed down to one day in the Botswana, Kalahari Desert.
I was on a university safari in that wonderful desert.
One day I broke away from the group to wander and observe on my own.
No roads, no overhead planes--only silence accented by inhabitant creature sounds.
Late in the afternoon I came across an abandoned Bushman encampment.
Circled huts (three or four) with a central fire area.
I realized I was in lion territory, so I immediately began to gather fallen firewood
To later be used to burn all night, warding off these magnificent creatures.
Darkness fell and sure enough, the roar of lions commenced.
The marvellous repetition of roar after roar in a series of crescendoed bursts of sound.
The calls alternated back and forth, one to another.
I ate, stripped down and lay down on a grassy mat left by the original builder.
I fell asleep, dreamed, and suddenly awoke, imagining a lion approaching the hut.
The fire had died down and, indeed, I believed a lion to be nearby.
More wood on the fire and moments of thought,
Before returning to a soft state of slumber.
This experience was temporary, but I was truly partaking in time 10,000 years ago.