Life is a story, waiting to be told
My sisters enjoyed their Zebra of the Day pics, so here is the October Zebra of the Month for you, just in case you need a reason to smile.
ZZZZZZZEBRA!!!
NOTES: ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photo ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
I’ve posted steadily about our trip to southern Africa. It’s fun to write about! The region is a bottomless wellspring of inspiration.
That trip gave me something I don’t feel very often: hope.
We’ve spent months in Asia in natural habitats that are now being dammed, or mined, or paved in the name of progress. It’s all happening so quickly. We know we won’t recognize those places when we go back.
But in southern Africa, in Botswana and Namibia, we were thrilled by the wildlife and the inhabitants. These countries spoke in growls and whistles and birdsong and hippo songs and human voices.
The Kavango-Zambezi Transfrontier Conservation Area (KAZA TFCA) is the largest transnational conservation area in the world at 444.000 km2. It is enormous, larger than Germany and Austria combined and nearly twice as large as the United Kingdom. The KAZA TFCA lies in the Kavango and Zambezi river basins where Angola, Botswana, Namibia, Zambia and Zimbabwe converge. [1]
There are issues to deal with – the loss of domestic animals to predators. The way elephants eat or trample crops. The complicated cross-country agreements. But, as their website states, “Local communities participate with enthusiasm in management of the TFCA through the Transboundary Natural Resources Managment Forum. The aim of this forum is to maximize skills and resources to promote sustainable land use, conservation of wildlife and landscapes, and rural development.”
I urge everyone to learn about this multinational effort to preserve the environment for the benefit of ALL inhabitants, whether winged, hooved, legged, or finned. FINALLY! A region of the world that’s getting it right!
NOTES: [1] https://www.kavangozambezi.org/ ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
“Wherever there are birds, there is hope.” ― Mehmet Murat Ildan
There is something incredibly surreal — and very, very funny — to be out in a jeep in the sand dunes on the Namibian coast and see the world’s largest bird stroll by.
Uwe posted photos from our recent trip to southern Africa on his photography website. He now has an entire section dedicated just to birds of Namibia. http://viewpics.de/pics/Namibia/Birds Here are some of his birds and their stories.
The ostriches were seemingly everywhere. They walk around in the Namib, the world’s oldest desert and one of the driest places on the planet. They hang out in flocks in Etosha National Park.
They hang out with other species, too. It’s safety in numbers, as well as combining forces against predators. The elephants provide their bulk and the impalas have keen hearing and sight.
We saw hundreds of flamingos on the coast.
When the rainy season arrives, the flamingos send birds north to see if the saltpan in Etosha Park has flooded yet. If the scouts don’t return, the rest of the flocks head north as well. Ann and Mike Scott in NamPower/Namibia Nature Foundation Strategic Partnership Newsletter No. 5: September 2010 had this to say: “Greater Flamingos are widely distributed in southern Africa with concentrations at flooded salt pans (during breeding) and coastal bays (during non-breeding). …at the central coast, they are concentrated at Walvis Bay and Sandwich Harbour. … Breeding occurs in large, typically mixed colonies on raised islands on flooded salt pan at Etosha …. Laying induced by extensive flooding and continued high levels increases chances of success.”
The birds migrate to this giant saltpan in Etosha once it floods. 1,100,000 flamingos were recorded in an especially rainy year!
Uwe photographed this juvenile African openbill stork in Etosha.
I’ve saved my favorite photo he took of the Southern carmine bee-eaters for this post:
Here’s another bee-eater, this one in olive.
For the final image, I leave you with a species that birders and guides all get excited about: the lilac-breasted roller. Our guide was really pleased with himself that he got us close enough to this elusive bird for a photo.
Much as I’d love to take credit for this post, it owes everything to my husband’s great eye and good camera equipment.
NOTES: One last comment about the flamingos: their other regular breeding site in southern Africa is Sua Pan in the Makgadikgadi Pans in Botswana. We visited Makgadikgadi a few weeks later. ©2024 Jadi Campbell. ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
We took the trip of a lifetime last year in Namibia and Botswana.
Once you are away from the few cities, the choices for overnight lodging become scarce. We picked lodges on rivers or watering holes. Each meal brought something new to identify and photograph and add to our growing list of fellow creatures.
I’ve already mentioned the giraffes that came to drink on precarious legs.
Here are some photos of the other visitors to the watering hole. I’ve just given names and photos. Their presence speaks for them without needing any more words from me.
NOTES: Uwe took all of these photos from the watering hole at Onguma Bush Camp, Namibia. ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photography and his photos of our trips can be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
I keep posting about the trip to southern Africa that Uwe and I made in November 2023. I’m doing it to share Uwe’s breathtaking photographs, and to share with you what we experienced.
The act of blogging reinforces my memories. Writing these posts helps me recall where we went and what we did.
But there’s something else going on here. In the months since we returned home I’ve created post after post after post after post after post, as if nothing can shut me up….
They aren’t just for the followers who stay with me as I tell tales. I write to keep reminding myself of how great I felt about the world during that entire trip.
The feeling came to me as a revelation. When I climbed shakily out of what I considered a toy tin helicopter after our ride over the Okavango Delta, I was startled to realize I was feeling something unfamiliar:
Optimistic.
I don’t know about you or everyone else, but it looks to me like ongoing world events are grim. Wars, climate change, mass extinctions, corrupt and greedy politicians destroying democratic governments to hang onto power…. It’s a long, depressing list. So to feel unequivocally GREAT about a spot was wonderful.
Thanks to all of you for reading, liking, and commenting on my endless flow of stories about southern Africa. I want to spread my sense of optimism. Let’s share some hope for a change!
NOTES: ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
The one negative during our trip to southern Africa was that we couldn’t go for hikes. Heck, we couldn’t even go on a stroll because there were too many wild animals running around. We went everywhere in our rental 4WD or a game drive jeep. Most of the lodges we stayed in were in the bush and each place we checked in, they warned us not to stray outside the grounds.
I had to give up the hope of swimming in anything but a pool. If hippos didn’t kill me, the crocodiles would.
My mom’s favorite animal was the giraffe. Sandy loved them, their patterns, their grace, their impossible heights. I thought of her each time we spotted another giraffe.
The only word I can use to describe this animal is, glorious. They fit all the definitions of the word: The giraffe is marked by great beauty and splendor. They are delightful. They are wonderful.
The pattern on each giraffe’s coat is as unique as a fingerprint. A giraffe moves at a regal pace. And their improbable tallness is suddenly funny when they have to splay their forelegs like a tripod in order to take a drink.
Not being able to go for walks was a small price to pay to be able to see wildlife in their natural habitats. Some of the lodges were built on water holes, and we ate our meals along with the critters. We had the great pleasure of watching giraffes approach for a long drink of water.
Our last lodge on the trip was back in Namibia, and for the one and only time we could actually go for long walks out on the property!
Uwe and I were alone and out of sight of the lodge buildings and felt like we had the pampas to ourselves.
We spotted wildebeests, pavians (yuck, I do not like wild monkeys), antelopes, zebras,
and giraffes!
Later we surprised a lone giraffe crossing the path. When he ran off, there was nothing but the sounds of birds calling and his hooves thumping on the grassland.
My mom would have loved it. Sandy, this post about giraffes is for you.
NOTES: They are notoriously hard to track. Tracking Giraffes ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photography and his photos of our trips can be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
“A heart without dreams is like a bird without feathers.” — Suzy Kassem
The bird life in Botswana and Namibia is fantastically entertaining. One of my favorite birding activities was watching them interact with other animals.
In Chobe, Botswana we spent breathless minutes watching a male African fish eagle try – and fail – to fly away with the huge fish he’d killed. A trio of monitor lizards kept on coming, and the eagle finally dragged his catch across the grasses. In the end, the lizard won.
On our last night in Botswana, at dusk (alas, too dark for photos) we watched a pair of Verreaux’s giant eagle owls hunting until it became too dark to see them. They were hands-down the largest owls we’d ever seen and absolutely magnificent.
We loved watching the giraffes with birds. They eat the insects that plague the giraffe, and pluck hairs from the mane for their nests. We spotted this group in Moremi Game Reserve.
Even more daring are the red billed ox birds who catch the flies and bugs that land on a water buffalo’s nose and eyes.
As I said in my first post on them, This Life is for the Birds!
NOTES: For more on Verreaux’s eagle-owl go to https://animalia.bio ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
My sisters were adamant. They know that when I’m traveling I prefer to go off-line. I don’t write emails, I don’t turn on the television set in hotel rooms, and I only respond to messages if they can’t wait.
Uwe sent occasional photos via What’s App to a small group of our friends, but I told my sisters I wanted to remain off-radar.
They insisted. If Uwe and I wanted to drive by ourselves around Namibia and Botswana, they wanted to know where we were staying and where we’d head next. “You can always reach me by cell phone,” I told them. But they wished to follow our trip on the map, and visualize where we were at any given time.
The request actually made a lot of sense to me the more I thought about it. The longer the trip lasted (we were gone for 5 weeks) the smarter it seemed. Uwe and I had talked excitedly about the trip as we planned it, but no one had a comprehensive list of lodge addresses and phone numbers where we could be reached if anyone needed to get in touch with us.
If for some weird reason we disappeared totally, nobody other than a travel agent knew where to find us….
Each evening I’d send a quick message to let Pam and Barb know we’d arrived safe and sound at our destination. Or, in the morning before driving off, I’d text them the name of the next national park and lodge we’d be heading to.
It turned into a rather glorious game. “Hey! Where’s our zebra of the day?” they’d text.
I did my best to oblige. Uwe’s by far the superior photographer but I snapped shots of the animals crossing the roads and included a daily photo in my daily briefing.
I tried to give them an idea of what I was seeing each day. I took photos of the metal artwork, the room we stayed in, the sunset view at dinner.
Maybe once a week we chatted in a three-way phone call. Barb was in Oaxaca, Pam was in Hong Kong, I was in Africa. My sister listened to me crow about our adventures. They told me in no uncertain terms to get medical attention the morning I reported that an insect I could only identify as a black Botswana battery-acid blister beetle had released noxious fluids on my neck. [1]
I journal diligently on trips to record as accurately as possible what we are seeing in each new place, but there was something rapturous about making quick emotional reports. My two sisters were the friends to receive a running commentary of first impressions.
Only Barb and Pam heard from me about the trip as it was happening. There’s no one I’d rather have had as virtual companions. xoxoxoxoxo
I want to end with a postscript that it’s a good idea before heading out on a big adventure to leave the particulars with someone you trust. Sisters, you are now forever on the need-to-know basis!
NOTES: [1] Go to my posts about the black Botswana battery-acid blister beetle for that story. ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Some photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. For more of Uwe’s photos from our trips and his photography, go to viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
“Tame birds sing of freedom. Wild birds fly.” — John Lennon
When you think of watching wild life in Africa, everyone talks about the Big Five. And yes, we spotted elephants, water buffalo, lions, and giraffes, everything except the leopard (which for all kinds of funny reasons makes me really happy. It means we have to go back!)
The birds in southern Africa are amazing too. We saw an array of bird life so varied and exotic that halfway through our trip we bought a book on Birds of Southern Africa. It would have been too annoying to get home again and have no way of identifying them without having to spend days on the Internet trying to find them.
At our last lodge in Namibia, Uwe and I both spent hours sitting on the little balcony to our room. We were watching the weaver birds making new nests and feeding their broods only a few meters away from where we sat.
Along the Caprivi Strip hundreds of bee eaters live on the river banks.
The bee eaters colonies will wash away when the rains come and the Kavango River rises.
In Chobe National Park in Botswana, we saw herons, eagles, storks, and shore birds beyond counting. We did an early morning boat cruise and literally had the river delta and the rich wildlife to ourselves.
We saw marabou storks who happily scavenge carcasses.
We smelled the dead buffalo before we spotted it. Then, like a comedy routine, the stork’s head popped up from where he was feeding on the other side of the water buffalo carcass.
More birds to follow. In my next post I’ll give you Uwe’s photographs of birds interacting with other animals.
NOTES: ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.
Photographers dream of getting an opportunity to take pictures of animals from above. In Botswana you can book a helicopter in Maun to spot herds moving across the Okavango Delta. Uwe repeatedly mentioned how “we” could have the chance to see the delta from the air, and finally I agreed.
When I imagined this ride I thought of a normal helicopter, constructed of reassuringly thick and reinforced metal alloy. One with three seats in the front, three in the back. I pictured myself ensconced in a middle seat safely far from a sliding door that was propped open for the photographers. We’d be up in the skies for 45 minutes that would zip by.
But, no, the flight was in a helicopter less than half the size I’d expected. When I saw the little tin toy we were going to ride in, my stomach began to flip. Our tiny death trap had no middle seat — and no doors.
Okay, so it wasn’t tin.
But it sure felt like it. We were high in the sky, riding in a fragile toy helicopter. A miniature toy constructed out of some kind of light metal that would crush with the slightest wind. A toy without any doors or even a safety bar, for f***’s sake. The only thing between me and a sure death was the seat belt. And my husband had decided to go for it and booked an hour-long flight instead of the 45 minutes I thought “we’d” decided on.
“What do you hope for from your flight?” they asked.
I pointed at Uwe. “He wants to take pictures, and I just want to not faint or throw up.”
My husband was in the back seat in that version of Heaven photographers go to in these situations. I sat in front next to Thorvald with both hands firmly gripping the seat under me. Breathe! I reminded myself, followed very quickly by, Screw that. Just don’t pass out. Thorvald kept circling and banking so Uwe could get the best shots. Each time he banked, my stomach circled right along with the itty bitty ‘copter.
I looked down and figured, If this thing falls out of the sky, we’re toast. I might as well enjoy the last hour of my allotted time on Earth – especially if it’s not taking place on the ground. I made myself unclamp my fingers from the seat, and even leaned towards the (nonexistent) door.
The vistas took my breath away. Tracks in the delta as far as the eye could see, made and followed by migrating herds.
Verdant areas where the showers of the last two days had filled pools.
African buffalo, zebras and elephants roamed across the land.
Pods of hippos seen from above looked like floating lily pads.
When I was looking through Uwe’s photographs for this post, for the first time I saw this pic of two men carrying attachable doors across the runway. So there ARE doors if you insist on having them.
I don’t know if I would have insisted if I’d known that ahead of time. As it was, once Thorvald brought us without a bump back onto the earth, I looked at him and said, “Let’s go up again!”
NOTES: ©2023 Jadi Campbell. All photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. For more of Uwe’s photos from our trips and his photography, go to viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
Click here for my author page to learn more about me and purchase my books.