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.

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 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.

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!

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…

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:

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!

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!)

Who's that by the door?

Well, are you coming in or aren't you?

This beautiful carpet was brought back from Afghanistan by my husband, Ian...it's a fine place for a genet cat these days!

Two-Notch Charlie (I've just this second named him that - all the other genets between whom we cannot yet differentiate are all Jean Genie) is recognizable by the distinctive double notches in his left ear

A handsome wee fella in profile too...

Two-Notch Charlie is eyeing up the salami on the table...

Just making sure it's safe to do so, before he jumps onto the table (far too close for me to be able to focus) and grabs his treat. By the way, if you're wondering why the carpet is bent over like this, it's because it's so windy here at the moment, that everything is being blown all over the place. I've put the carpet back so many times, only for it to get blown over again, that I've now given up and just left it there!)

Waiting for more...like a puppy, this genet can wear you down with those "poor me" eyes, waiting ever so patiently until I relent and go back to the kitchen to fetch more goodies...

For such small, delicate cats (which are not really cats, but more closely related to mongooses), genets have very long tails which help them to balance when climbing trees (or walls to get into our house)...

While I was feeding and chatting to the genets (yes, I know, talking to animals is only one step away from insanity!), I heard a loud crunching noise coming from just outside the kitchen...I knew immediately what it was (for I had seen the same nocturnal visitor three nights ago, for the very first time), so I thought I'd push my luck and sneak around with my camera until I could get a clear view of the area...

Who's this coming around the corner?

None other than a Porcupine! This huge rodent (which stands over two feet tall, quills included) has been coming to feed on the left-over maize [corn] which I throw on the ground each evening after feeding the dik diks. Porcupines are notoriously difficult to photograph because they are so painfully shy and are also nocturnal. They spend the day sleeping in underground burrows, only emerging in the hours of darkness to forage. To be able to repeatedly photograph this rarely seen animal, even with a flash, from such close quarters was an extraordinary piece of luck for me.

Hang on! What's this? Not one, but TWO porcupines! How amazing! The second one turned out to be much more shy than the first, and was nervous of my flash, so I tried to resist photographing it too much because I did not want to scare it...but I had to take a couple of shots, just to prove there were two of them...

The first porcupine stayed and munched away quite contentedly while my camera flashed away...you can see from this big close up (which has not been cropped, although of course I have re-sized it), that I was quite close to it...

From behind, it looks like an untidy collection of spikes that's been dragged through a hedge backwards...

Look at those quills!

Behind the porcupine, a hare was happily devouring our lawn (no need for electrical lawn mowers around here!)

I thought Halloween wasn't 'til next week...so what's with the scary eyes?! [Did you know that, if an animal's eyes reflect light, like those of hares, porcupines and genets do, it means they can see in the dark?]

And not to be left out, here's one of the genets (must be Jean Genie!) with the porcupine.

Now I know who's been eating the plants in the flowerbeds leading up to our front door - the cheek of it!

That's right, stick to the maize (at least until I've turned away, then do your damage as you will!)

Sometimes I really think our house has been invaded, and we are merely quite useful to have around for many of the invaders...

Here's a squirrel emerging from the kitchen, as if he owns the place (we're back onto daytime animals now, obviously)

Another squirrel makes himself at home under the balcony furniture...

These days the starlings don't wait for us to put food on the bird table, they come to us as we're eating our breakfast and demand their share, there and then!

While this Agama Lizard in our living room looks...well, let's just put it this way: he doesn't look like he's too concerned whether or not we want him in the house! Truth be told, of course, we love all these creatures sharing our home with us...or is it the other way round and we are sharing their home?

THE END
(for tonight anyway, as elephants trumpet in the river below the house and my eyelids droop...it's 1am and for a lightweight like me, that's LATE!)

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Early flight (20th October 2008)...

Which is a good thing, because those attacks by their father (or imposter, whatever he may be) are not letting up...The chase is now on, in the air and on land.

It's difficult to describe how vicious these attacks on the young goslings are. For a start, the adult goose is a much heavier, more powerful bird (that can also fly properly). What makes it worse is that the adults are still meant to be protecting the goslings, not trying to harm them or chase them away...not yet...let them get a bit older first... This series of pictures tells the story better than words:

The adult goose's attacks are becoming more and more brutal...

And even though the embattled gosling tries to escape...

Its attacker does not relent...

A particularly nasty peck!

The mother goose then pitches up and immediately tries to intervene...

The mother chases the male goose who's chasing the gosling...

Until eventually, amidst much noisy scolding from the mother, the male goose finally pulls back and lets the traumatized gosling escape...at least until next time...

It's exhausting just following this saga, isn't it?

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Upstream

Downstream

The waterbuck snorted in alarm at the rushing water, but were soon persuaded to come down for a drink:

The buffalo seemed delighted, wandering deep into the water for their early morning thirst-quencher...

Still no rain in sight for us though, although there were black skies out beyond the kitchen today (that is to say, to the west of us) so maybe we will get a dose of our own soon. Legend/Tradition has it that the rains start on 24th October in Tsavo East - that's today! Maybe we'll get rained on tonight. The plovers seem to think so for they are mating again (but since when have they ever been reliable indicators for anything?!). The lizards seem to think so too, as they've been busy courting...or shall I say this male Agama Lizard has been busy chasing a female around, but she wants none of it, or so it seems...

Wherever she goes, he goes...

Apologies, I am getting ahead of myself here. This post was really meant to follow on from the previous one, and therefore I'd like to start with a question:

If our "poison river" was in fact no poison river at all, but just a river saturated with algae and starved of all oxygen, why then did so many of our goslings die so quickly in the following days?

On the 19th September, where we left off our previous gosling update, we still had 13 strapping young goslings growing up fast in and along the river below our house. When we awoke on the morning of the 23rd, the day the mass fish die-off seemed finally to be abating, we only had 11 goslings. Here they are, with both their parents:

By the 25th September, we had lost another four goslings. Six down in 3 days...that's not normal. I know we always expect to lose half to two thirds of every brood between hatching and adulthood, but to lose so many so quickly just ain't right, in my book. But, right or not, we were down to seven:

You guessed it (there's kind of a trend here, isn't there?)... On the 26th September, another one had gone. Down to six from thirteen in less than a week:

So, at this rate, you can understand how utterly disheartening it was on October 2nd to see a very sick gosling, its wings drooping and trailing, trying its best to keep pace with its siblings as they wandered amongst the dried up fish skeletons - poor brave little thing...

By the next morning, it was dead. We only had five goslings left in the brood. For a day or so, these ones were doing just fine, until 4th October, when another one fell ill:

But, it seemed on this occasion that Lady Luck was on the side of our goose family (not before time, either) for the gosling recovered and to bear witness, here are the five now quite large goslings doing well on 9th October, along with their parents:

It's now almost two months since they hatched and made that epic first journey to the river as tiny fluffballs, arriving here on 10th August, their protective parents displacing the resident goose pair and their brood of goslings (one month older than our lot, to the day) which we now see further upstream, living quite happily at Hippo Bend (there's only five of them left too, down from the original twelve, but their brood diminished in number gradually, losing one gosling here to some predator, another one there, which is sad but quite normal...)

Something strange happened on October 9th. In the morning, I saw an adult goose lying at the edge of the river, just near the reed islands. All day it lay there, without moving:

By evening, it was dead:

Overnight, some scavenger ate the dead goose and I thought nothing more of it, beyond thinking it was probably just one of those things...Nature gives, and Nature takes away...

Around this time, I noticed our goslings were starting to flap their wings a lot, in preparation for the next major step in their lives: flight. They do this to strengthen their wing muscles, and it's fun to watch. Here they are in pre-flight training on 11th October:

Given their recent tribulations, you can forgive me for my sense of dread when I saw this gosling, inert in a pool near the river's edge, while the rest of its siblings were some way away nibbling at the grass on the sandbank:

But - silly me - it was only sleeping! When the gosling woke up, it looked a little dazed and then it realised it had been left behind, so it hurried over to join the rest of the brood:

On 14th October, our five ever-growing goslings had a few close (albeit totally peaceful) encounters with some other riverine residents. Here they are sailing past a couple of dikkops (who look as dikkops always do - totally aloof):

And here they are again, this time with a very fine male Impala who had brought his harem down to the river's edge to find some green vegetation:

In fact, on 14th October, it seemed that the goslings had come through the worst, and had nothing more to worry about than the wind...how easily one is lulled into a false sense of security...

It's a good thing the goslings have been in training, for take a look at this. Later that day, I heard a wild commotion going on outside and I rushed to the door of my office, only to see one of the adult geese viciously attacking its own brood:

I have to assume that of the two parents, this must be the father, for to attack your own young is so anti-intuitive for a mother (and in other species, you do see the males becoming a threat to their offspring). I also know it is normal behaviour for geese parents to chase off their young - but not until they can fly and are old enough to fend for themselves. Our little chaps had only just started practicing to flap their wings! So what was going on? Either the father just had an abnormally bad headache (which endures until this day, for he is still chasing the goslings, whenever he's given the opportunity)...or he's being over-zealous in his efforts to teach the goslings to fly...or ahead of his time in chasing them from "the nest", as it were...or - and this struck me only yesterday: I wonder whether he really is their father? Doubtless, he is with their mother, but I wonder whether that adult goose we saw dying by the reed island was their father, and this aggressive goose might already have "moved in" and is their mother's new mate? We can't be sure, but this certainly would explain this unusual behaviour.

Who needs enemies when you've got a father like this?

And what does the mother do while her little ones are being attacked? She comes noisily to the rescue, trying to place herself between the male and her goslings. The male retreats when she does so, and sheepishly wanders away, but every now and again, he cannot resist having another go - admittedly his attacks are more halfhearted when the mother goose in in the vicinity.

The protective mother stays close to her goslings to prevent another attack

On 17th October, the father (if that is what he is) is still at it, terrifying the wits out of the young goslings...

After a drama-filled few weeks, my instinct tells me, it's not over yet...so stay tuned for the next episode of "Gosling Wars"...but I do want to end on a somewhat lighter note, so here is a comical image of one of our goslings, trying to decide whether or not it wants to go for a swim - eventually it fell off the edge and its decision was made for it!

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It was a hot, balmy afternoon when we noticed a few dead fish washed up on the riverbank...enough for us to raise an eyebrow, but no real cause for alarm.

Sunday morning, the 21st, was a different story: we awoke to find the riverbank littered with dead fish, and scores more floating by, white bloated bellies to the sky, every size and type of fish the river had raised and nurtured. It was a horrific sight. I'm showing you so many photos of the poor dead fish to try to give you an idea of the scale of it all:

I watched a young crocodile follow and investigate a fish as it drifted downstream, seemingly about to snap it up in its fearsome jaws, but then it turned and swam away, as if in disgust, and let the fish float onwards downstream:

Overnight, a group of four Pink-backed Pelicans had arrived. The last time we saw Pelicans here was back in February. Unlike those earlier visitors which were either juvenile birds or adults not in the mood for procreating, these ones were adult birds coming into full breeding plumage, with their sunflower-yellow pouches.

We all know Pelicans are fish-lovers...so why were they not eating any of the dead fish that lay littered all around them?

Monday 22nd September and the river was seething with storks - Marabous, Yellow-bills, Woolly Necks - but strangely, many of them were also not touching the dead fish. (You would expect them to be gorging themselves, wouldn't you?).

The Yellow-bills would pick up a fish, as if to eat it, then drop it again. The Pelicans were still there but still not appearing to touch the dead fish. Perhaps they were already full up and couldn't squeeze any more in? Or perhaps something more ominous was happening? Did the birds know something we didn't?

The Yellow-billed Storks were picking up the dead fish but then dropping them again

The Marabous, the ultimate scavengers which it has to be said will eat almost anything, were arriving in great numbers and were the only ones eating some of the fish, but without much enthusiasm.

Of great concern to me too was the fact that Ian told me he had seen our Egyptian Geese pecking at some of the smaller fish. This worried me in case the fish were contaminated. (This also surprised me, as I thought geese were exclusively herbivorous...but having said that, close observation of nature does reveal that many creatures eat things you wouldn't expect them to - I think the diets of many animals and birds are partly driven by availability of food and, especially in the dry season when times are tough, they do not stick as closely to their supposed eating patterns as we categorizing humans would like them to - remember the squirrels eating the chicken carcass? And aren't dik diks meant to be browsers? Then why are they devouring large chunks of our lawn grass?)

This Egyptian Goose was not intimidated by the presence of so many huge storks

The most worrying discovery of all was that of a large dead crocodile at Hippo Bend, which we noticed on the Monday but which (scouring the background of some of my photos) I realised had already died on Sunday. Ian and our guys went to have a closer look at it, to see if they could see any telltale marks or lesions on the carcass but they could see nothing. Neither was anything eating it, which I thought strange but then my father told me he had seen a crocodile carcass in the Mara and nothing was eating that either, so maybe it's not unusual.

So what on earth was going on with our river? Some of the local Wakamba people allege that this mass die-off of fish happens whenever the sisal plantation upstream dumps chemicals in the river. Other people, who have lived in this area longer than I have, claim it happens every year because of an algal bloom which depletes the river and starves the fish of oxygen. I do know we have a lot of algae in the river at certain times of the year (for one thing, the river turns bright green, and for another, our bath water stinks of it!) But how does that explain the storks, pelicans and the young crocodile not eating the dead fish? Perhaps they were just too full already. But what about the dead crocodile? Of course, it could be coincidence that it happened to die that same weekend that the fish died...but it's the first dead crocodile we've seen in over a year of living here.

We took a water sample and have sent it to Nairobi for testing by the Kenya Wildlife Service, so we'll see whether they come up with any information for us. If this does turn out to be a natural annual phenomenon (perhaps exacerbated by fertilizers or chemicals bleeding into the river further upstream - or perhaps made worse by the water temperature which soars when the river is low and the sun unrelenting?), I certainly do not look forward to a repeat of the tragedy next year.

All the different Dragon Flies, in their gorgeous iridescence, might disagree with me however, for they seemed to be feeding delightedly on the dead fish at the river's edge, their bright colours on the carcasses creating morbidly picturesque imagery...

By October 1st, only a few dessicated fish skeletons remained, which the Marabous, true to form, insisting on eating.

Marabous Storks - like Vultures - may not be pretty, but they do play a vital role in nature by "clearing up the mess", and preventing disease spreading through rotting carcasses. At least - in the end on our sad river, the poor dead fish did not all go to waste - for up and down its course there were dozens of grateful (or at least satiated) Marabou Storks...

Too much fish makes you itch!

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Dezine Design Creative Hub | My Art & Photos on Gifts & Apparel | Fine Art & Photo Prints |

African Environmental Film Foundation