Driving Across The Serengeti
The vast plains of the Serengeti stretch before my eyes, magnificent in the purity of their African wilderness. It is dawn, and the sun is just beginning to make its way up from the nether regions of rest to the African plains that thrive on its harshness. The swirl of colors it brings to the sky is a kaleidoscope of soft pinks, lightened indigos and calm gingers that look as though they have been traced on by the fingers of a child on a slowly shifting canvas. The soft rays play upon long dewy grass that is the predominant vegetation. They slowly dispell the unsettled consciousness of the Serengeti, where lions stake out nocturnal kills and wildebeest are chanced upon by crocodiles in the river forming the boundary between the Mara in Kenya and the Serengeti in Tanzania. Moments go by, as I witness the stark shadows of the land lit up by the glowing rays of the African sun. A new day has come to the Serengeti.
I am alone, in this land that represents the truest essence of
There is something about the untamed land that pulls at my soul and clears out all the other thoughts from my mind. As I drive along the staked out trails with a map on my passenger seat showing the entirety of the Serengeti, I see the nature that has prevailed for centuries in this continent. The trees that break the monotony of the brown scrubland help the straggly flowers that are determined to exist in this harsh land. I want to see them closely, but dare not get out of the jeep. A long-range, clear lens photograph will help me identify them later.
The trails are overgrown ruts formed by ranger cars and tour vans, some with white stones marking them out of the general surroundings. Had I not known where they were, I couldn’t have begun to guess! However, this being my second drive across the Serengeti, I am quite aware of the trails. Even then, in an unforgiving land such as this one, it doesn’t do to become overconfident.
As big clouds of dust mark the land left behind, I begin searching for my one true grail of the Serengeti: the lions. Having missed a glimpse of even one of these elusive creatures on my first trip to the Serengeti, I cannot help but hope for better luck this time. To this end, I had consulted the rangers before leaving, who mentioned that there were a few families on the Northern terrain. The trails I follow are stark and unending. As I drive along, two guinea fowl decide to play chase with the car. They give up after a few minutes, apparently having played this game once too often!
The going is arduous, every meter of the rough trail causing the jeep to jerk violently and bouncing me around in the seat, even at the lowest of speeds. I see plenty of deer, grazing silently by the road. They aren’t bothered by my presence. It is almost as if they have erased awareness of this other species that drops by from time to time to view them, and seems to find them so fascinating!
Although the long grass serves as a good cover, I see a lot of other fauna as well: tiny dik-diks shyly slinking away from the trail, warthogs that cannot decide whether they want to be seen or not, zebras whose striped dusty coats look more like black and brown than black and white, small blue birds that fly off into the sparse trees as soon as I try to take a photograph of them.
The sky has lightened completely, and the effects of the night are long gone. The dew is dry, the land is warm, the sun is much stronger than it was at dawn. And with the lengthening of the morning hours, my chance to see the lions of the Serengeti has increased. The trail ends, to be replaced by another one. And still, no lion. As the African sun portrays its full potential, morning slides into noon, trails overlap, elephants pass by flapping their ears and the terrain changes into a greater frequency of trees. And still, no lions.
It is time to turn back. The heat of the afternoon is not something that can be trifled with in the Serengeti, and with a slightly heavy heart, I drive forward on this last trail that shows no signs of revealing my grail. And then I see a movement in the grass. Convinced that it is just another gazelle, I almost drive past. But an instinct stronger than my disappointment convinces me to scout out the movement. I inch carefully off the trail, closer to where I last saw the movement. All is silent. And then I see them.
It is a family of lions. Only, instead of several lionesses, there is only one. The male lion is snoozing under the very tree that I crossed twice. It is huge, with a dark mane that covers its face and neck. Eyes closed, its air of ease shows its contentment at having gained a nice shelter from the harshness of the African sun. A lioness lies close by, continuously swatting at the three rambunctious cubs that insist of chasing each other around her and over her. I am enchanted at the scene.
A light swat later, one of the more curious cubs tries its hand at climbing the tree under which its father is resting. After a number of undignified falls on its backside, it gives up the attempt and starts walking towards the jeep, curiosity in every step. I want to leave before it gets to the jeep; fearing the repercussions of this act by the lions. The other cubs sit close to their mother, staring at the daring one. Just as the mischievous cub reaches the jeep, the lion growls. This is the moment that I realize that the lions have been aware of me all along. It scares me.
The cub, undaunted, walks on. The lions growls again. This acts as a signal for the lioness, which rises up in all her majesty and silently saunters towards her offspring, and placing her mouth upon its neck, gradually lifts it gently and walks back towards the family. Once there, she releases the cub and lies down again. Another swat later, the cub settles down to play with its siblings. I watch, amused and relieved.
The shadows are lengthening. It is time to head back. I leave the lions, having stored up a host of memories in my mind that I can take out in the flawed perfection of civilization and marvel over and remember my quiet hour when I was at harmony with the lions of the Serengeti.