You’d think you’d tire of it.
The early morning wake-up call.
The ride on the bumpy roads.
The forced group outings.
But each ride was different. We observed different animals. Some were animals I’d never even heard of—like bushbuck, nyala, duiker, and steenbok. And now I had hundreds of their photos.
Each photo was drenched in a different light—the predawn early rays of the gentlest pinks rising before the sun, the full day sun drenching us with its warmth, and the sun setting with the brightest oranges I’d ever seen.
We observed the animals doing different activities—running, stalking, resting, fighting, mating, and even playing. And photos of them doing all of it. Except the mating. I did not take photos of the mating.
Sometimes the animals sat and watched as we went by. Sometimes they paid us no mind at all. Occasionally, they seemed a little more interested than I would have liked. Ray assured me the elephant wasn’t going to charge at us, but his stare and his huffing made me doubt him. If he had stomped his foot, Sonny assured us he would have gotten us out of there unharmed.
Sonny told us the animals considered us one of them. The big green Land Cruiser was just another animal roaming the African bush. As the minutes of our last game drive ticked down, I felt like one of them.
Through all the differences of each game drive, each minute of it, there was one constant. The beauty.
I understood why Geri kept wanting to return. I hoped I could one day too.
Maybe next time I wouldn’t spend the whole trip investigating a murder.