It came from the East: this huge raging beast
Shrieking through crevices of rock.
It whipped up huge waves
In mountains and swirls.
Crashed into the coast and the caves.
It churned the sea bed;
Tore the beach to a shred
Gathering shingle and stones
It spit back.
It shattered the cliffs
And gnawed at the shore
Receding …….
Then breaking once more
Rhythmically pounding
The surf ever sounding
A barrage penetrating
Your core.
Poem and photo copyright to Englepip©
At first, the darkness of Africa is dense and dreadful
But for the stars above; pinpricks in the velvet night
There is no moon and the echoing bark of a nyala
Gives warning; there is movement in the bush.
Senses alert, my spine tingles in anticipation
The screech of a nagapie carries on the breeze
Like the doleful cry of an injured child
And I am mindful to resist the temptation
To run wildly into the inky black, to its rescue.
We sit and we wait; the cicadas, chirp
A constant whistling buzz; mosquitoes whine
A smell of damp earth, and fear.
And then we hear it, a rustle of leaves
A rumble in the darkness that vibrates within.
There it is again from the other side.
And slowly, shapes come lumbering out
From the bush to the waterhole – and I can see
Grey shapes conjured in a grey landscape
Lumbering large but oh so quietly
Dipping trunks into the liquid ink of the pool.
A snort, and the dripping back of water
And a noise like an emptying sink as
They gurgle the water deep into their throats
And the tiny elephants keeping safe
Under their mothers’ legs obeying the signals
Be discreet; be wary; keep close
And in a moment they shrink into the darkness
And are gone. Magic of the night in Africa.
It is sometime since I have been on a night safari but the sounds and eeriness stay with me. Waiting beside a waterhole, anything can turn up. I remember feeling very vulnerable parked in a broken old open-topped Land Rover with a guide with an old rifle our own protection! Of course it is very dark when the moon is out and that is so much in contrast to Europe and yet once your eyes get used to it, you can see shapes and when the moon shines it can be quite clear. The guides have a searchlight but that does disturb the night life – better to wait and listen and watch.
The picture is a screen capture from a site I often visit, Africam.
Words copyright Englepip©
We drew up the boats at the water’s edge as the sun plummeted towards the horizon. Just in time for a campfire; and facing west, a chance to watch the setting sun turn the whole of the western reaches burnt orange and golden. Drink in hand, we watched in awe as darkness descended and a chill grew across the water. Listening intently as the noises of the day dropped one by one, the intensity of the night-time sounds grew greater; grunts and barks of wildlife echoed and there was the occasional screeching of a female tawny owl. And then we heard it, the plop and plunge of paddles slicing the calm waters as two canoes swished past, rippling through the water in the dying light; making their way homeward, secretively, cloaked of darkness.
Photo copyright Englepip ©
Englepip's World 