Ndumo Night

A brisk wind picked up and swept

the warm evening air across the pan,

spurring the trees into a chorus

of hisses and rushes.

While the edge of the shore lay down

the base for percussion:

a gentle, consistent lapping

of water on hard, baked sand.

The remaining light was reserved

only for the skies,

where feathered clouds slowly

stretched out into a holey blanket,

absorbing the pink and dull orange

of the dying sun.

Below, the pan was black.

black, except for the reflected heavens

that bounced off crocodilian eyes,

unblinking and ominous.

The chatter of a squabble between

some local Vervets

sounded from the treetops

and a small flock of Trumpeter Hornbills

threw their cries across

the shallow water, swooping low

and coming to rest in a Fever Tree.

Frogs and crickets supplied a buzz

of pops and clicks

and the great fisherman added

his iconic song to the mix.

I breathed it into my lungs

and tried desperately to open

my eyes and ears

a little more than they would,

so as to record the moment indefinitely

in my minds archives.

Somewhere accessible.

Somewhere I could always reach it.

A memory of a place so enchanting

that no grey city would ever

take it away from me.

(Written after visiting Ndumo Nature Reserve in 2016.)

#wildlife #travel #blogpost #poems