Lake Nakuru and Amboseli.
At first I mistook the base of Kilimanjaro for a storm cloud looming low on the horizon. The mountain does indeed loom over the surrounding landscape like an oncoming storm. It's peak is frequently enshrouded with clouds making it difficult to tell at a glance whether you are looking at the mountain or the sky. In short, Kilimanjaro is massive, bigger even than I imagined. Close by is Amboseli, open fields and marshland that stretches into the horizon in every direction. Amboseli is justifiably famous for having the biggest elephants in Kenya. Certainly there are more of these behemoths than anywhere else I have visited. The herds move solemnly back and forth, towering over the surrounding zebras, wildebeests, hippos and other creatures, none of which would be considered small. More astonishing perhaps is the way that these simply enormous animals fade inconspicuously into the landscape. Africa makes you reconsider your sense of scale. Maybe it is appropriate then that the gardens of my safari camp here has provided me with the best birding so far on this trip. The thornbush acacia are full of sunbirds, weavers, red and yellow barbets, splendid starlings, doves, pied crows and go- away birds, filling the air with odd trills, squawks and chirps. Dawn is a un-ignorable cacophony of competing song from a collection of birds, most of which could fit easily in my hand.
Lake Nakuru, on the other hand, I expected to be rife with bird life. The lake is, or at least was until recent environmental changes, renowned for its flamingoes that dyed the surface of the water pale rose. The flamingoes are still there as I can confirm from a distant smudge of pink, but they are far fewer in number these days. Most of the shorebirds steered clear of the more accessible stretches of shore where they could be seen and identified during my visit. One of the park's other famed attraction, however made no attempt to conceal themselves. If it weren't for my previous experience on safari, I would think that a white rhino wouldn't be able to hide. They stood placidly by the side of the road, contentedly grazing. They gave the nearby safari vehicles, which they nearly equalled in size, no more attention than they would the oxpeckers that perch on their slaty hide searching for insects. It is an astonishing incongruous sensation to be in the presence of such a large peaceable beast.
Nakuru is also known for the exceedingly rare Rothchild's giraffe. My guide had just pointed out how much the pattern of this handsome subspecies resembled a soccer ball when I noticed a bee eater in a nearby acacia. In attempting unsuccessfully to photograph this bird, I spotted what I initially mistook for a vervet monkey deep within the branches. This turned out to my delight to be a dozing African scops owl. Owls are by no means rare, but it is an unusual treat to see one during the middle of the day. If you are willing to pay attention, nature always rewards the effort with both large and small delights.
At first I mistook the base of Kilimanjaro for a storm cloud looming low on the horizon. The mountain does indeed loom over the surrounding landscape like an oncoming storm. It's peak is frequently enshrouded with clouds making it difficult to tell at a glance whether you are looking at the mountain or the sky. In short, Kilimanjaro is massive, bigger even than I imagined. Close by is Amboseli, open fields and marshland that stretches into the horizon in every direction. Amboseli is justifiably famous for having the biggest elephants in Kenya. Certainly there are more of these behemoths than anywhere else I have visited. The herds move solemnly back and forth, towering over the surrounding zebras, wildebeests, hippos and other creatures, none of which would be considered small. More astonishing perhaps is the way that these simply enormous animals fade inconspicuously into the landscape. Africa makes you reconsider your sense of scale. Maybe it is appropriate then that the gardens of my safari camp here has provided me with the best birding so far on this trip. The thornbush acacia are full of sunbirds, weavers, red and yellow barbets, splendid starlings, doves, pied crows and go- away birds, filling the air with odd trills, squawks and chirps. Dawn is a un-ignorable cacophony of competing song from a collection of birds, most of which could fit easily in my hand.
Lake Nakuru, on the other hand, I expected to be rife with bird life. The lake is, or at least was until recent environmental changes, renowned for its flamingoes that dyed the surface of the water pale rose. The flamingoes are still there as I can confirm from a distant smudge of pink, but they are far fewer in number these days. Most of the shorebirds steered clear of the more accessible stretches of shore where they could be seen and identified during my visit. One of the park's other famed attraction, however made no attempt to conceal themselves. If it weren't for my previous experience on safari, I would think that a white rhino wouldn't be able to hide. They stood placidly by the side of the road, contentedly grazing. They gave the nearby safari vehicles, which they nearly equalled in size, no more attention than they would the oxpeckers that perch on their slaty hide searching for insects. It is an astonishing incongruous sensation to be in the presence of such a large peaceable beast.
Nakuru is also known for the exceedingly rare Rothchild's giraffe. My guide had just pointed out how much the pattern of this handsome subspecies resembled a soccer ball when I noticed a bee eater in a nearby acacia. In attempting unsuccessfully to photograph this bird, I spotted what I initially mistook for a vervet monkey deep within the branches. This turned out to my delight to be a dozing African scops owl. Owls are by no means rare, but it is an unusual treat to see one during the middle of the day. If you are willing to pay attention, nature always rewards the effort with both large and small delights.
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