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Such a precious tiny little life...

2009-12-05T07:26:30Z

Still fast asleep in his night basket, this photo which was
taken yesterday morning, shows how tiny Dinky really was.

Poor little Dinky died on my lap, peacefully in his sleep, at 10.30pm last night.

The day before yesterday, he suddenly took a turn for the worse in the afternoon, but then, after some more milk, he seemed to perk up a bit and was fine for the evening. At 2am, he had his biggest feed so far, and was looking fine. In the morning, I fed him again at 6am, 7am and 8am, and he was taking food but not wanting to wake up, even falling asleep in the time it took me to re-fill the syringe with milk. The whole day he just continued sleeping, only grudgingly waking up to take a syringe or two of milk every 30-45 minutes or so. By midday, he was starting to visibly lose condition in front of our very eyes. I rushed off to Mtito Andei (the town about an hour's drive away, where only very basic supplies are available) to try to see if I could find a different type of milk for him, as it seemed the milk we were giving him (despite having successfully raised our neighbour's dikdik) was just not giving Dinky what he needed. I rang a wildlife vet in Nairobi who suggested trying human baby formula so I raced around the few shops in Mtito Andei and eventually found a single tin. I rushed back home as fast as I could, where Ian had been keeping Dinky alive with a couple of syringe-fulls of the original milk. But, even with the new milk, as the afternoon and evening wore on, we just watched the poor little mite waste away in front of us. I just held him on my lap, until - devastatingly - he died there at 10.30pm, just a shadow of the little animal he had been in the morning.

I feel so distraught – he was such a dear little soul. He was so very, very tiny and so helpless, and although I did my very best, it was not enough. I think he was just too young and too small, and perhaps he was already ill when he came to us but we did not know it. I feel so awful, as if I let him down when he was relying on me. Even though he was only with us for two days, I feel utterly bereft – how ludicrously attached one can get to these little creatures in such a short space of time, even when you know the odds are stacked against you when these wild babies are so very young.

These are our last photos of Dinky, taken yesterday morning. By evening, despite my best efforts, he had lost probably half his body weight...but this is how I will remember him, as the sweetest little ball of fluff you can possibly imagine...

Rest in peace, dear little Dinks...I'm so sorry I could not do more to help you. Your tiny little life leaves a great big hole in our hearts here at Kulafumbi...

Spread-eagled Like Bambi on the ice

2009-12-03T11:42:26Z

Little Dinky has taught himself to walk today...after his first feed of the morning, I put him down on the lid of the basket in which he sleeps at night (once upon a time, it was a laundry basket), and after a few minutes, he started trying to get up on very wobbly little legs. Eventually, he gave up and settled down for a snooze.

When I sleep, I like to curl up in a tight little ball,
with my head on my haunches (my fur is so soft and warm)

I have such a funny little nose that twitches and wrinkles all the time

And the crest of hair on my head always seems to stand up like a bottle-brush

Trying to get up on spindly, unfeasibly long and wobbly legs is very tricky...

In fact, I'm not having much luck at all.

I think I'll settle back down...

And have a snooze instead...

But half an hour later, when he tried again, up he got and there's been no stopping him since! He's even running a little bit and attempting the odd jump which so far has always ended in total collapse. When he tries to move too fast on our cement floors, his tiny hooves slip and he ends up belly flopping on the floor, with his legs spread-eagled and pointing to all four corners. It's hard not to laugh because he looks so comical...and he manages to get straight up again, so he is not hurting himself.

Now that he's found his feet, Dinky has taken to following me around and sucking my leg. He's also starting to establish some places in the house that he obviously thinks are now his. If we're in the sitting room, he finds a little corner next to our big armchair, if we're in the kitchen he curls up next to the bin, and if I'm working in my office, he snoozes under my desk. Amazing to think, he has only been with us for 24 hours, yet already is establishing these habits and making this place his home.

Now that I can walk, I'm becoming very brave and adventurous...

So, during the day, we are just letting Dinky run free around the house with us. I took him out on the lawn this morning, but he seemed non-plussed about that...I guess until he starts eating greenery, he won't be too excited about garden forays. I think he's probably only a few days old (because his umbilical cord is still attached, and because he only started walking today), so will expect to ween him in 6-7 weeks' time. For now, it's two-hourly feeds during the day until about 10pm, and then one feed in the middle of the night (about 1am) and that's it until morning. He's taking between 8 - 12ml each time. I'm not sure he really needs the 1am feed, but as I was awake then, I thought I'd give him some milk - after all, he only came to us yesterday and he is still so very tiny, I don't want to risk him going hungry.

His teeth are already growing (and have grown a lot since yesterday) - with his long ears and buck teeth, he reminds me so much of a little rabbit sometimes...

Oh so very dinky!

2009-12-02T12:26:26Z

There's nothing quite so dinky as a baby dikdik....so it was easy to name the new addition to our household: without further ado, Dinky he was named. Let me update you:

This morning, a tiny dikdik baby was brought to us in a cardboard box by some people from the neighbouring village, who said they had found the little mite all alone when they were clearing their fields. Unfortunately, they should really have left the little thing where they found it, for a mother antelope often leaves her very young baby hidden in some undergrowth while she goes off to forage, returning periodically to feed the little one. But once the human scent is on the baby, the mother would most likely reject it and the baby dikdik would not stand much of a chance to live through the night.

So here we are, with this tiny wee creature on our hands, HOPING that we can keep him alive and rear him safely here at Kulafumbi, and then, when he is old enough to fend for himself, return him to the wild where he belongs.

Right now, Dinky is only about 5-6 inches long, still has some of his umblical cord attached, and probably weighs no more than 500 grams...very dinky indeed! Fortunately, our "neighbour" (who lives 10 kilometers upstream from us) has reared orphaned antelope, and had some leftover milk powder which I borrowed (for cow's milk is far too rich for most wild animals to digest). Even the mixture of milk powder in slightly warmed water must be very weak. I also picked up a baby's bottle but the teat is still much too big for Dinky's tiny little mouth, so I am feeding him by syringe, which seems to be working quite well, although he is taking very tiny quantities at the moment. This morning, before leaving in search of some milk powder, and fearing he would dehydrate (not knowing when he last had a feed from his mother), I just gave him some water (he drank about two syringe-fulls, which is only about 4 ml, which immediately seemed to reinvigorate him and he became more perky). Since returning home at midday with the milk powder, he has drunk about 10ml of weak milk mixture, in two separate sittings. Already he is seeming stronger, trying to get up on his feet (he can't quite stand on his own yet, which also indicates how very young he must be, for antelope are able to stand up very soon after they're born.) I am trying to feed him every couple of hours to begin with, in order to get enough sustenance into him - even if it's only 5ml at a time. As he gets older, I will reduce the frequency to 3 larger feeds per day.

Well, I know you want to meet the little chap (and he is a little chap - I had a look!), so here he is:

By the way, it HAS started raining - I'll do an update about the river and the rain shortly...

The end of the blogging drought, if not the real one...

2009-10-05T19:20:51Z

I know this will come as a great shock to you, but yes, I’m back… Life has become rather hectic and I don’t promise to update this blog as much as I used to but I will try to do better than I have been doing recently!

So, I’ll start with the bad news: Since I last wrote an entry, back in February this year, we have had NOT A SINGLE DROP of rain. It’s a desperate situation, with animals starving and dying, not to mention people too. I’m not going to try to catch up on all the goings-on since I last wrote, but here you can see how thin the buffalo already were back in June…fast-forward another 3 months of no rain and you can imagine how thin and frail they are now…

And look how red and dry the Yatta Plateau was back in June, and it’s only become hotter and drier since then:

Our poor geese appeared on the dwindling river with their brand new brood but sadly not a single little one made it, for there was no cover (the river being so shallow and narrow by this point that there was nowhere to hide) and very little to eat too…

And then the inevitable happened: the river stopped flowing… 6th September was the day the water stopped:

And very soon, there was no water left in the river at all, bar a couple of tiny, shrinking pools:

Looking upstream from the house…

And downstream…

A thirsty waterbuck gets what he can…

It’s rather unsettling how such a harsh, unforgiving landscape can still be so achingly beautiful…and awe-inspiring how any of the animals survive at all, with so little to eat and hardly a drop to drink.

The elephants have learned the secret of surviving the drought and help a few other animals along the way. They know that, beneath the dry riverbed, a subterranean flow still exists, and they dig in the riverbed until they reach the underground water. Once they’ve had their fill, other animals can come and drink from the holes. To make things easier for all the animals, we’ve dug a larger waterhole in the sand in front of the house, where all sorts of animals and birds now quench their thirst.

Digging in the sand to reach the underground water...

And of course the underground water beneath the sandy riverbed also provides enough moisture to keep a thin smattering of grass alive, which is mercilessly harvested by one and all…

Warthog (above) and Lesser Kudu (below)

Despite the underground flow, the reeds are dying

It’s not hard to imagine why our house and garden have become a bit of an oasis to many animals since the drought really started digging its heels in. We are still watering the lawn around the house with water pumped up from a hole dug in the sandy river (just like the elephants!) and this lawn feeds a “herd” of dikdiks by day, as well as hippos, hares and who knows what else by night.

A twitchy-nosed dikdik on the lawn...and a hippo footprint on our patio!

It’s amazing how many friends you can make when they’re hungry and you have the food! I am feeding an increasing number of animals each day, and they are all becoming increasingly tame.

First up are the sparrows and doves who wait impatiently for their millet seed in the morning. If I am not out of bed in time, they come and flutter around frantically in the bushes outside our bedroom window – whether or not that’s deliberate, I’m not sure but it certainly seems to be!

Even the pretty Namaqua Doves (above) have been coming for the seed, to join the Mourning Doves, the Laughing Doves and the Emerald-spotted Wood Doves.

Then the kitchen scraps from yesterday’s dinner and today’s breakfast go out for the dikdiks and – inevitably – the vervet monkeys too. I have stopped getting stressed by the monkeys trying to steal all the food – after all, they’re hungry too – and the dikdiks seem to have learnt to stand up for themselves and not be intimidated by the monkeys.

Around lunchtime, I also put out a pile of maize (corn) for the dikdiks, which is “shared” with the monkeys and the squirrels. The dikdiks are so tame now, they come rushing up to me as soon as I appear with their maize, and they will quite happily feed right next to me. (I’m happy to say the monkeys still have a little more respect, and keep their distance until I walk away, at which point they come rushing in.) At the same time, I put out more bird seed, for by then the Crested Francolins have arrived, as have the relative new-comers, a pair of Yellow-necked Spurfowl. The crowds of sparrows and doves also come flocking back down for round two.

Dikdik surrounded by birds

Crested Francolin (above) and Yellow-necked Spurfowl (below)

You can bet your bottom dollar that when the fruit and vegetable scraps go out, Slim (our black-tipped mongoose) and her now very big baby turn up, asking where the carnivore rations are, so it’s back to the fridge to see what meaty or cheesy left-overs I can find for them.

However, when the Banded Mongooses turn up, then Slim gets elbowed out the way by these boisterous, noisy beasts who are more heavily built than the Black-tipped Mongoose and of a much more aggressive temperament it would seem. Ian and I refer to them as the “terrestrial piranhas” because watching them dive onto the food I throw out for them is rather like watching a shoal of piranhas devour some hapless prey. Nonetheless, I have a real soft spot for our band of Banded Mongooses. They don’t come by every day, but when they do, they are a barrel of laughs.

A case in point was the day I first put out a basin of water for the dikdiks and other animals to drink from, just outside the kitchen window. I thought this would prevent them having to cross the endless expanse of sand to reach the waterhole in the riverbed (where they make easy pickings for eagles). The Banded Mongooses obviously thought this basin of water was just the ticket and put there just for them…and it seemed that nothing short of total submersion in the water was enough for them!

After their bath, the mongooses have a great time rolling around on the lawn and in the dust, and then continuing to forage for insects in the damp earth beneath the lawn or beg for scraps from the kitchen, as the case may be.

The Monitor Lizard also seems to like the lawn…perhaps because it is cool or perhaps because it too has discovered that the lawn is the only place where there are insects to be had during these dry times.

Our lovely genet cats still come by as soon as it gets dark, for the final feeding round of the day. Jean Genie and Two Notch Charlie have become so tame, feeding from our hands without a moment’s hesitation (In fact, as I write this, they are sitting on the carpet watching me.)

During daylight hours, it has been open season for the Martial Eagles with the wide open riverbed and nowhere for the dikdiks to hide. This poor little one was killed right in front of the house:

The Martial Eagle guards his kill. You can just see the dead dikdik in the reeds on the left hand side of the photo below.

But here’s the lucky one who got away!

The hyraxes – those voracious devourers of green shoots – seem to be multiplying at a huge rate. They spend all day long in the bushes on the edge of the lawn which benefit from the sprinkler too.

A baby Vervet Monkey runs up to a hyrax

The hyraxes also feel quite happy chewing the plants on our balcony down to tiny stubs, the moment our back is turned.

The Tree Squirrels have also decided that inside the house offers more creature comforts than outside, and have taken up residence in one of the holes in the posts on our balcony:

There’s no denying they’re very sweet (although they can become very destructive if let loose on carpets and upholstery…)

We’ve had a few other newcomers too. On 11th March (I know the exact date because I made a note of it), a Magpie Starling suddenly turned up with the glossy starlings. This bird was far out of its normal range, for it is usually found in the desert country further north-east of us. I wonder whether its venturing this far into Tsavo was an indication of how dry the country is here this year? (I didn’t get a photo, unfortunately.)

A beautiful Verraux Eagle Owl, giant of the owl world, came and perched in the doum palms near our house one evening, and I thought it looked rather lovely in the late light.

Last week a pack of Wild Dogs killed a waterbuck just up behind the house. These dogs have become quite rare over the years, but seem to be making a come-back in many parts of the country and – in spite of the hapless waterbuck – it’s truly wonderful to see them back here…

Well, that was a quick round-up to bring you back in touch with all the Kulafumbi regulars and the newcomers too…while we continue to wait for the rain. The birds are all courting and the Fireball Lilies are flowering, both of which are normally indications of imminent rain…but we won’t believe it until we see it!

The Purple-banded Sunbird can always be found on the flowering acacias near the house (also benefiting from the lawn watering!)

High Season in the Dry Season

2009-02-28T14:49:51Z

The dry season on a river in Tsavo equates to non-stop wildlife action, and it’s fair to say this is a just description of the current situation at Kulafumbi. The river in front of the house is like a super-highway, attracting traffic all day long and all night long. Needless to say, we are in heaven! The flipside of course is that, enjoyable as it is for us to have so many animals around, it means life is getting tough for them. The more it dries out inland, the more they have to rely on the riverine belt for survival. As you know, the rains failed miserably in November, and so things are pretty dry in this part of the world. There is not a lot of grass or browse to be had, and many of the animals are spending more and more time in the reed beds.

The buffalo take to lying down in the river to cool off during the heat of the day. The fact that they are coming down to drink at midday, and often spending the whole day on the reed islands is testament to how hot and dry it is at the moment.

There are a couple of old buffs who have taken up permanent residence in the reeds just below the house. We’re not sure if one of them is sick (it looks a little thin) or whether the pair of them are just old and rightly think that a reed island in the river is a fine place to spend their days. Here’s the sprightlier one enjoying a green mouthful:

Now if this isn’t a scene that just says “Africa”, I don’t know what is. The elephant herds are back in our area and – you guessed it – they’re back in the reeds too!

Watching adult elephants help the little ones through difficulties, like here where the baby encounters a pocket of deep water, is always a moving, strangely humbling experience.

Teenagers will be teenagers… This little chap just couldn’t resist chasing the Yellow-billed Stork…it’s such fun when something is frightened and flies away!

You can see how tall the reeds have grown – they literally swallow up the elephants as they forage around the sick (old?) buffalo…

The elephants move on up towards our house, a wonderfully healthy herd with lots of little ones…it’s great to see…

Did I tell you that “our” hippos disappeared from Hippo Bend for 6-7 weeks and only reappeared again mid-February? I’m not sure where they went for we still heard and saw them at night, but could not find them during the day. Anyway, here are our fat friends (reed-munchers too), back in their familiar pool on Hippo Bend…

You can see how wide our sandbanks are, with the river being so low. Our resident herds of impala and waterbuck can be found here daily, nibbling at the new shoots, which sprout up optimistically through the sand.

These two waterbuck fawns were having a tremendous game of chase the other day (how they find the energy in this heat, I don’t know). Remarkably, neither of them fell over, despite the angles attained as they cornered:

Just as it was a strange rainy season (in other words, it never materialized properly), so it’s been a strange dry season, for we have had a couple of unseasonal rainy days.

On January 17th, we woke up to a drizzly morning, and the rain lasted all day. This sent the birds into a confused frenzy. The weaver birds started building their nests again. Here’s a male African Golden Weaver, undeterred by the rain, collecting acacia flowers as nest lining:

Meanwhile, with high spirits abounding, the Black-headed Weaver and the Sparrows decided to have a barney at the bird table…

African Paradise Flycatchers are amazing-looking birds. The males come in a variety of different guises. The “standard edition”, if you will, is predominantly rufous with a black head and shocking, electric blue eye-wattle. Its most distinctive feature, however is its inordinately long tail. It’s quite a stunning bird, as you might imagine. Here in Tsavo, though, we get an even more eye-catching variety, which is a subspecies (Terpsiphone viridis ferreti). It’s a white morph, and is like Pegasus of the bird world: a white wonder floating oh-so-elegantly through the undergrowth.

The unexpected rain set the Paradise Flycatchers a-courting. Here’s a white male courting with a rufous female (equally pretty but without the long tail).

A couple of days later, the Flycatchers had started building a nest, right outside the kitchen in the commiphora thicket. You know me, I was out there like a shot with my camera.

MALE FLYCATCHER ON NEST BY THE KITCHEN

The birds were fascinating to watch (and they got accustomed to me very quickly, and came and went without batting an eyelid.) Both male and female were actively involved in building the nest, bringing in pieces of dried foliage, spider webs, feathers and all sorts of bits and pieces to build their little cup nest. Once they had fiddled around and placed their new piece precisely where they wanted it, they would huddle down in the nest and wiggle around, obviously shaping the nest to their precise comfortable dimensions.

THE FEMALE ARRIVES WITH A PIECE OF NEST BUILDING MATERIAL

THE FEMALE SHAPING THE NEST BY HUNKERING DOWN AND SHUFFLING HER BODY

SHUFFLE, SHUFFLE

THE MALE PLACES NEW BUILDING MATERIAL ON THE NEST, AND POSITIONS IT EXACTLY WHERE HE WANTS IT

PROUD AS PUNCH!

THE MALE TURNS TO LEAVE AS THE FEMALE ARRIVES WITH MORE NESTING MATERIAL

While I was photographing the Flycatchers, this Tree Squirrel kept coming over to see what was going on.

Sadly, the unexpected two days of rain in January ended as abruptly as they had begun, and we were thrust headlong back into the dry season. The Paradise Flycatchers gave up their nesting endeavours, thwarted by the lack of rain.

Then, on the 9th February, out of nowhere, a monstrous storm blew in. I watched the massive weather front sweep in over the Yatta, awed by its power and feeling rather tiny in comparison. What a wind! You cannot imagine the force of it when it hit us! Our chairs were blown like matchsticks across the balcony, one smashing to pieces as it hit the wall. The rain followed the wind, and lashed the house the whole night through.

The vicious weather front blowing in...upstream (above) and downstream (below)...

By morning, it was just drizzling, and by the following evening, the rain had gone, and the sizzling heat of the dry season was back.

What this strange weather is doing to the lifecycles of the plants and animals is anyone’s guess. Some wet season flowers are blooming (although this also has to do with the fact we are watering our lawn, which means everything else in the vicinity gets a generous dousing of water too.) Of course, it’s not just the animals and birds that are magical in this part of the world, the plants and flowers are equally breathtaking. Here are a few of our currently blooming beauties to end this quick round-up of Kulafumbi in the dry season…

The cheeky vervet monkeys enjoy the lawn being watered too, sneaking up here at any opportunity to nibble the greenery. Here one surveys the outlook from the beach before deciding whether to brave the ascent to the house and the lawn…

A Feline fine enough to knock your spots off

2009-02-28T11:23:32Z

It's not every day you're lucky enough to see a leopard...but in the past week or so, it has been an almost daily occurrence here at Kulafumbi. Now that's a slight exaggeration, I admit, but we have been seeing a leopard opposite the house quite regularly. Over Christmas, we watched a leopard fishing in the rapids just above Hippo Bend, and since then we've seen a leopard several times (could be the same one, but who knows?) opposite the house on the far riverbank, and also moving in and out of the reed islands just below the house (even as late as mid morning when the sun is already high and hot). We often hear the baboons' and vervet monkeys' barking alarm calls in the early morning and at dusk, signifying the big cat's presence again, but often without us catching sight of it. And frequently below the house, we see other leopard tracks in the sand, including that of a small female passing by under the veil of darkness. And in the dead of night, we often hear the distinctive rasping leopard call, such a haunting sound of the African night, sometimes near and bone-rattling, sometimes distant and sonorous.

A week ago, Ian and I were walking along our sandbank in the evening when we heard rustling coming from the other side of the river. Lo and behold, there was the leopard again, this time rushing back and forth amongst the rocks and fallen brush near the river's edge. It was hunting for hyraxes, which we saw dashing hither and thither, hoping to evade the deadly strike of a sharp-clawed lightning paw. We stood there and watched it for a good twenty minutes before the leopard wondered on upstream and we made our way downstream and home before it got too dark.

Unfortunately, in my delight at seeing the leopard, I forgot to notice how dim the evening light was and neglected to change the ISO setting on my camera...so the photos I took are not great, but nonetheless I wanted to share the handsome creature with you, so here it is, its beauty only diminished by the forgetfulness of this photographer:

And to end on a cautionary note, let's not forget what happens to the hapless creatures caught by this most efficient of hunters: here are the only remains of a dikdik whose path crossed that of a hungry leopard. We picked this up on our driveway. As you can see, there's not much left to tell the tale, but quite enough to tell all that needs to be told!

Reptilian Rumble in the Jungle…Or could it just be romance?

2009-02-25T19:13:39Z

There’s no denying it: crocodiles are bizarre creatures. There’s been so much croc-action-at-Kulafumbi recently (sounds like something out of a hyped-up TV programme, doesn’t it?). Every day we hear their crashing in the reeds and the deep guttural hiss-roar that crocodiles make, and if we’re quick, we catch a glimpse of them as they chase each other at great speed from the reeds into the open river, when inevitably one will turn tail.

As you may remember from our earlier discussions back in 2007, it can be tricky to tell whether these great toothy reptiles are courting or fighting…Recently however, the crocodiles have appeared so overly aggressive, I can only think they really are fighting.

The other day one clutched the other’s snout between its jaws and simply would not let go (“Ow!” say I).

Check out these two, in action earlier today…if I was the smaller crocodile, I think I’d also be getting out the way of that evil-looking monster as fast as my legs could carry me…

The Yellow-billed Storks definitely follow the smaller crocodiles around (or vice versa?) to find the best fishing grounds.

Strangely enough, even though they compete for fish, the crocodiles don’t appear to mind the storks at all, although these two “minnows” don’t seem to like each other too much.

I told you these creatures are unfathomable…Look at these two: far from being aggressive, they seem inseparable, following each other around, nose to tail (or nose to nose at times) and clambering all over each other…They’re only about four foot long, so hardly ready to mate…so what are they doing? Are they siblings? Or “just good friends”?

This stork seems to be pushing its luck...Not content to fish around the small crocodile, it starts gingerly prodding, poking and biting the crocodile’s tail. The crocodile doesn’t give a hoot, but when it moves, the stork gets a bit of a fright.

A Marabou Stork arrives to see what all the commotion is about, but all it finds is two loved-up little crocs and a Yellow-billed Stork not too sure of what to do next.

Now, let me take you to the other end of the reptilian spectrum, from those that grow to ten feet or more, to these little fellows who are only 10 cm long…The geckos in our house are behaving as aggressively as the crocodiles in the river below, but again, it is not so easy to tell whether they be fighting or they be courting…

You can see how one of the geckos has lost its tail – perhaps from fighting or escaping some predator’s clutch – but it’s steadily re-growing again. As usual, never a dull moment here at Kulafumbi…

Flights of Fancy

2009-01-17T12:33:49Z

One of the wonderful things about our house being set on the edge of a precipice, falling away to the river below, is that we are eye to eye with the birds as they pass by on the wing...and often we even get a bird's eye view of the birds themselves!

It's impossible not to wonder at the beauty and diversity of these feathered creatures, and yes, I suppose to envy them their freedom a little too.

Here are just a few of the passers-by, in all their glory...

A gorgeous Black Stork, on a winter's visit from Europe If you look carefully, you can see the "spurs" on the front edge of the wings, which give Spur-winged Plovers their name Over the past few days, a group of Pied Kingfishers have been dashing up and down the river, frantically shrieking and tumbling and turning as they squabble, and inadvertently demonstrating that they are the most consummate of fliers. A Blue-cheeked Bee-eater hunting for insects on the wing The fact that we see our resident pair of African Fish Eagles almost daily does not detract from their beauty... When it first arrived on our stretch of river, the Goliath Heron was so shy, moving away down- or upstream as soon as there was any activity in the house at all. Now it is so tame that whatever commotion might be emanating from the house, it is quite unfazed. Even when we go down to the beach and pass within 30 metres, it just watches us out of the corner of its eye but doesn't bother to move. Can you get more beautiful than this? A female Bateleur Eagle (the aerial acrobat of all aerial acrobats) flying past overhead...

Our resident Glossy Starlings bred successfully this year, and have been bringing their youngsters to the bird table. The immature birds have dark eyes, in contrast to the white-yellow eyes of the adults. Here's one of the young ones finishing off our Christmas pudding:

I just discovered why Glossy Starlings have iridescent upper parts. It's apparently because their feathers contain hollow melanin granules near the surface...so now we know that! Be that as it may, they are rather striking birds to look at, but it has to be said they are as comic as they are colourful...just watching one bird for a few minutes, you see all kinds of funny expressions:

Whatever the Weather, Hippos for our Hippo Lawn

2009-01-16T18:03:30Z

It’s been a strange season again, with the short rains (which were due to start late October) never really materializing. We had two substantial rainstorms on the 6th and 8th of November respectively, but that was it. As a result, this part of Kenya is extremely dry, there has hardly been any re-growth of grass (just take a look at our Little Serengeti, below) and the river is as low as you might expect – yet still ever so beautiful nonetheless (above.)

Last week, the sparrows starting courting and I wondered if they had gone a little crazy but – of course – they were right, for since the full moon a couple of days ago, it has been raining! Rain in Tsavo in January is not normal but we’re not complaining. I know I probably said that in January 2008 too, which was also an unusually wet month. It seems things are changing on the weather-front, and nothing is predictable any more – you can no longer be sure the short rains will fall in October / November and the long rains will start in April. You just have to be grateful when the rain comes at all.

Despite the dry, hot months we’ve been having, Ian has succeeded in nurturing our lawn – with the aid of a couple of strategically placed, ever so persistent sprinklers - and yes, we really can call it a lawn now, rather than a few hopeful tufts of grass! You might remember our plan was to have a conventional lawn up around the house (and it’s done a wonderful job in softening the look of the house, below), and then on the Hippo Lawn, to let the wild grasses grow really wild, and wait for a hungry, grateful horde of hippos….which didn’t come and didn’t come, despite the star grass growing thick and tall (some of it is waist high)…

Excuse what may seem like somewhat obsessive behaviour, but I’m going to subject you to a whole ream of aptly named star grass photos…you see, we’re rather proud of our lawn, and I also happen to think that backlit grass is one of those beautiful images from everyday life which should not be taken for granted…

And then all of a sudden – and to our great delight! - one night about ten days ago, we heard a sound outside our bedroom window in the middle of the night, much like an over-sized horse munching on lush green grass. A hippo at last for our Hippo Lawn! And judging by the footprints next morning, more than one too…

A couple of nights ago, a hippo arrived earlier than usual, at around 10pm, and I was able to sneak along the balcony outside our bedroom and photograph it. Believe it or not, it took no notice of my flash whatsoever…

It's fun to think that, where our wedding dancefloor-under-the-stars once stood, now a hippo romps his way through a feast of grass, just outside our beautiful home...

Other grass- and seed-eaters are enjoying the free meal too. We're starting to get regular visits from the Guineafowl (flocks of both Helmeted and Vulturine), though they remain shy. The tiny African Firefinches are here en masse, amongst the equally tiny Cordon Bleu waxbills, and of course our armies of resident squirrels, not to mention the Vervet Monkeys who - much to Ian's indignation - think the grass was planted just for them!

11th January 2009 : An Owlette for New Year

2009-01-11T13:09:18Z

Happy New Year to you all!

Yes, I'm back online, amid many apologies for my long absence...what can I say? I've been busy, busy, busy...

As usual, there are many stories to tell. First up is the little nighttime visitor we had to our verandah...a diminutive Pearl Spotted Owlette. It landed on one of our chairs and sat there for ages, completely unworried by me (standing just 4 metres away) and equally unconcerned by my camera flash.

According to African legend, owls bring bad luck but I prefer to think they are wise, as other legends would have it...and therefore I rather hope that this little fellow is an omen of good things to come in 2009...(fingers crossed!)