Sonja’s amazing wildlife photos November 14, 2010Posted by Jenny in photography, travel, wildlife.
Tags: Bloemfontein Camera Club, Cape buffalo, elephant, Kruger National Park, leopard, mating lions, Sonja Myburgh, South Africa
I described in my last post how I experienced “my wildlife” through my own eyes and through my own lens. It was an experience I would not trade for anything. You, my readers, were very kind about my efforts at wildlife photography. But in this post you will see what wildlife photography is really all about.
It was one of the several incredibly lucky things about my trip to South Africa that I was in the company of Sonja Myburgh, president of the Bloemfontein Camera Club and a prize-winning photographer. When you look at these photos, you will see why she is considered to be so accomplished. Of course, I could say to myself, “It’s all just the equipment! Give anyone the right camera, and they’ll get the right pictures!” But no, there’s much more to it than that.
It’s true that Sonja has a lot of excellent photographic equipment.
But knowing how to use the equipment, and having the eye for the composition, is not so simple. With no intention at all to be unduly self-deprecating, I will say that I do not have the aptitude for bringing complex equipment together with the perceptive eye. I don’t worry about it too much—every now and then I get a nice picture—but my talent really lies more with the written word. One of the nice things about getting older is that you stop thinking you have to try to be great at everything—at any rate, I gave up on that a long time ago!
I watched Sonja juggling with different lenses and deciding what to use for what kind of shot. One of her cameras was capable of getting off multiple shots in the space of a second—it sounded a bit like a machine gun when she was using it. And I saw her and Arnold working as a team—with him at the wheel of our vehicle, we would patiently go back and forth on the road to get the right angle, sometimes manuevering through a bit of a traffic jam, while she had the big telescopic lens sitting on a special holding device on the top of the partially cranked-down window.
At any rate, enough of these words. Let’s have the pictures that are worth far more than a thousand of them apiece.
I spoke of the mating lions in the last post. Here they are.
I saw that incredible scene through the high-powered binoculars, but I knew it was a waste of time to try with my point-and-shoot camera.
Here are more shots of the leopards we saw.
Here is one of the Cape buffalo that stopped traffic in Kruger:
And, last but not least, here is an elephant. Thank you, Sonja—and thank you, Arnold, for making the whole thing possible.
In South Africa: Here are my wildlife November 11, 2010Posted by Jenny in memoir, nature, wildlife.
Tags: Kruger National Park, Sabiepark Nature Reserve, South Africa
Why “my wildlife”? I don’t own these animals, not by a long shot. I have no feeling of ownership about any part of nature. But I chose that title because what you see here is my personal experience of South African wildlife—an experience full of limitations, imperfections, and accidental events, yet one that permanently belongs to me. You won’t find any great wildlife photography here, you’ll only see what one person encountered on a few enchanted days, in and around Kruger National Park.
I encountered this creature on a morning walk around the Sabiepark Nature Reserve. It looked very comfortable near the parking area.
I saw the animal below at Kruger, on our night drive, before it got dark. Arnold tried to pull the wool over my eyes with some story about the males having white stripes on black, and the females having black stripes on white, or maybe it was the other way around.
Later that night, we heard the unsettling cries of a hyena as it loped right past the house in the dark hours. We got a glimpse of one in the morning.
We encountered an ample supply of Cape buffalo.
They are one of the most dangerous animals in the park.
We saw impala everywhere, but I never got tired of them.
I liked this little guy up in a tree.
Not long after we crossed paths with an extended family of monkeys, we saw the reedbuck and impala shown at the top of the post. They were wary of something. A little down the road we saw what it was.
It’s not a great shot, but hey, it probably gives you a better feel for the actual experience of spotting lion than one of those gorgeous, crystal-clear shots you find in places like National Geographic!
It was a group—I guess the collective noun is “pride”—of perhaps ten lions that moved stealthily, steadily toward the gathering of impala. It was that particular form of motion, that stalking, that sticks in my memory the best. We picked out first one, then another, then another, all moving in that marvelous fluid way. The group of impala made nervous little chirping sounds but stood their ground until the last moment, then successfully bounded away.
By the way, we had the incredible luck to see a mating pair of lions later in the day. They loll about next to each other for two or three days, rousing themselves every half hour or so to do it again. Quite something. You will have to take my word for it, as I got no photo of it. If Sonja sends me one of hers taken with her giant lens, I will add it here.
I can only offer, as a very poor consolation prize, my X-rated baboon photo.
We saw a whole bunch of hippo ears sticking out of a big pond.
At the Skukuza rest camp, we had some company near our picnic table.
All along, we had hoped to see leopard, but Arnold and Sonja said it would be unusual to spot one in the height of the afternoon. We lucked out. Several cars had pulled over, having detected a tell-tale long spotted tail hanging down from a branch. I guess the leopard, being at the top of the food chain, doesn’t care that much if it is spotted (sorry about that!) taking a nap. We saw one in one tree…
…and its mate in a neighboring tree.
I saw this waterbuck with Klaas and Carol the next morning.
And we encountered several rhino.
A few hours after that morning drive, I had to catch a plane and return to reality.
P.S. I don’t know where else to put the following anecdote, so I’ll tack it on here. I had completed the Nelspruit-to-Johannesburg leg of my return journey and the killer Johannesburg-to-Atlanta leg, a 16-hour blear-fest for someone like me who can never sleep on planes. On the final Atlanta-to-Asheville leg, I dragged myself onto the tiny aircraft and slumped into my seat. Out came a stewardess who said, “I would like to introduce you to Maggie, our new flight attendant in training. This is her very first flight on the job.” We all spontaneously clapped in cheerful support of the extremely young and slightly nervous-looking Maggie. Then it came time for her to go through the usual blather about fastening seat belts, exit rows, seat backs and tray tables, turning off all portable electronic devices, etc., etc. Reading carefully from her script, Maggie gave it the sort of dramatic pauses and emphasis that you would expect from an actor going through an important audition. Her voice rose and fell in theatrical changes of pitch— she looked up from her card at intervals to make sure we were all gripped with the intensity of the moment—and at last her voice faded gently with the words, “If Captain Busby or any of our flight crew can assist you in any way, please just let us know…” And for that we gave her a well-deserved ovation. Best of luck in your career, Maggie!
In South Africa: Around the edges November 5, 2010Posted by Jenny in memoir, travel.
Tags: Harrismith, Ladysmith, Nelspruit, South Africa
For an introduction about my recent trip to South Africa, go here.
The battlefields, cemeteries, and memorials we visited did not exist in a vacuum. Present-day South Africa thrived all around the edges. At times, the present nearly obliterated the past: the battlefield of Colenso was literally overshadowed by the giant cooling towers of an Escom power plant. (It is very fortunate that most of the important battlefields have been spared that sort of intrusion.) The kids you see in the photo above were watching us as we visited memorials and graves near Colenso: a few minutes after I took this picture, one of the kids did a beautiful slo-mo moonwalk for our entertainment.
We had spectators on the Tugela Heights as well, as onlookers gathered around, curious about this big busload of people that had driven into their neighborhood on some rather obscure roads.
I found it interesting to people-watch, even in settings that would seem completely unremarkable to the people who live there. I noticed small differences in the way people dressed, the way they walked, the way they talked.
By certain variations from American dress—the beautiful pink and orange skirts, the style of the multicolored shirt in the foreground, the ankle-length floral outfit toward the back—I would never mistake this scene for one in the U.S.
Ladysmith had a great wealth of interesting signs for various kinds of businesses. In the photo below you can see part of a sign for the “Chirpy Chick” lurking behind the cannon.
The lefthand part of the sign features an oval-shaped portrait of a very proud-looking chicken. The righthand part says, “Where price is king!”
I saw many wonderful signs. Unfortunately, it was impossible to take pictures of them from our moving bus. Some of the best ones were:
Bubbles Car Wash (with a picture of a car with bubbles coming out from under the hood)
Telly Doc (doctor with stethoscope to TV screen)
C R A Z Y Computers (the letters for “Crazy” were tilted at weird angles and in several different colors)
Something Tasty — For People With Taste
Royal Hotel — Leaders in Friendliness (the “Royal” and the “Friendliness” didn’t quite go together)
Midnight Blue Adult Shop
These were near Harrismith:
Jumbo Centre (of what??)
Grand National Liquor Land (with a lot of colorful flags out front)
These were near Kruger:
Awesome Fast Foods
Oasis Car Sales
Supa Car Wash (one of a whole series of car wash places that consisted simply of a tarp stretched over some poles and a bucket that could be filled with water to wash the car)
Buy For Your Lovely Ones (not Loved Ones) (This reminds me of another couple of funny substitutions: “Our new hotel will open in grandiose fashion” in a brochure and, said in conversation, “The impala made gracious leaps.”)
And then there were some good traffic signs: I did really see one for a hippopotamus crossing as we approached Nelspruit, and at the entrance to the Sabiepark Nature Preserve, “No Hooting Please.” That just means “no honking,” but when I started giggling, I had to explain to my puzzled companions that to me it meant “No Scornful Laughing.”
Last, but not least: