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We returned yesterday evening from a trip to the hustle and bustle of Nairobi, where the Jacaranda trees are all in flower – thousands of lilac blossoms like you can’t imagine. All the way to Nairobi, there was no trace of rain – the country is dry and parched. No wonder the river is so low, for its source is up near Nairobi, and when the water level rises here, it is because of rain falling upcountry, not right here.

A young Gymnogene was on the islands again, hunting for frogs. The Plovers were not happy about it, and the young eagle was bombed relentlessly. The big Monitor Lizard passed by too, but they didn’t seem too concerned about him (which is strange, as Monitor Lizards certainly eat Plover eggs, and therefore would not normally be welcome, whether there is a nest or not.)

You can tell from this dried out piece of Hippo dung, that the poor beasts do not have much left to feed on, just course dry grass.

Late in the evening, we took a walk in through the thick bush to a huge Baobab tree at the far end of the property. What an ancient giant it is, with wonderfully gnarled bark where elephants have gouged into the tree in generations gone by. In a dry place like this, where there is not enough water to allow it to grow quickly, the tree is probably hundreds of years old. (Baobabs have been known to grow faster, but only in areas of high rainfall or artificial watering. It is estimated that the oldest Baobabs are a couple of thousand years old, but they are very difficult to age because their soft, pulpy wood does not grow in rings.) The massive tree is a home to all sorts of smaller organisms: there is a busy beehive in one of its hollow branches, and many large spider webs (some growing over empty obsolete honey combs). You can see where honey hunters in years of old have driven in wooden stakes to allow them to climb the tree and retrieve their booty. The light and the clouds were gorgeous as the sun sank lower in the sky, and even the dead Baobab flowers with their rich dark red colour, were beautiful.

As we headed homewards, and rejoined the dust track that meanders back to the house, we came across a young Kudu bull. Even though the light was dull by then, I took a photo nonetheless, for the Kudu is one of my favourite antelope.

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