Back into the euphor(b)ia

The African milk tree stands as a tall reminder that I’m not in Kansas anymore. I mean, I’m not in Kansas at all. I’m back in South Africa, looking for elephants.

There’s a moment that feels almost electric; a euphorbia tree comes into view and something inside me shifts: a rush of a sense of belonging; an earthy sweetness in the air that smells of dust and possibility; a tingling anticipation of reunion with the magnificent beings we’re here to observe.

The tree is the threshold; the elephants are the reason we cross it.

We venture out that first afternoon to see what we bump into. Not literally, of course. We’re here 5 months after collars were removed from 2 of the matriarchs, so we have to find them the old fashioned way. We’re here 5 months after we field-tested the first version of an elephant ID app that has the potential to fundamentally change the way we identify individuals in the field. We’re here to mesh science with wonder; to bring the future into the field; to follow their footsteps, and to observe and learn.

So that first sighting that first day in the field, on a landscape transformed by recent rains, we spotted a matriarch and her new babies and grand-babies wallowing in the mud. We sat with them as they played and bathed and rumbled the way elephants do. I felt that rumble permeate into my bones as some of the heaviness of the world I left behind lifted.

  • baby elephant making a cute face with its trunk outstretched
  • herd of elephants on a green grassy plain
  • Mother elephant with her trunk resting on her baby's back
  • baby elephant with trunk of its mother
  • matriarch elephant
  • mother elephant with a baby
  • herd of elephants

These animals will never cease to leave me in awe of the natural world.

This is the 4th time I’ve been at Kariega since the spring of 2024, and to be honest, I’m not in love with South Africa as a destination. To me, it feels closed and apportioned and entitled, and I always leave with the feeling that they’ve commoditized the wilderness here.

That said, Kariega feels like an oasis of potential. The reserve is trying to collaborate with its neighbours to connect private reserves into the Bushman’s River Biodiversity Corridor and eventually up to Addo Elephant National Park. But that kind of cooperation requires trust and wildlife management and a look at the problem from the animals’ perspective rather than a consumptive end goal. The result, if it works, is a natural corridor for elephants and other endemic species to roam and thrive and, ultimately, survive.

  • 4 elephants crossing a river with their reflections in the water
  • close up of a large bull elephant
  • baby elephant facing the camera with its trunk up
  • hippo in the water
  • single elephant crossing a river with its reflection in the water
  • zebra facing the camera

Fence removal works. Dr. Brooke Friswold, Africa Manager for Bring The Elephant Home, recently published a paper after researching the results of fence removal at Kariega. Results confirmed what she suspected all along: Removing fences helps elephants and ecosystems thrive:

  • Elephants moved into lower-density, higher-quality habitat after fence removal.
  • No additional vegetation loss occurred where elephants roamed.
  • Locomotion increased and foraging decreased, which was consistent with exploratory behaviour.
  • Social bonding increased by 66%.
  • Aggression decreased by 20%.

The full paper is definitely worth a read.

elephant herd in a field

Now what?

I’m conjuring up another blog post on what I’ve learnt from the herd. Elephants can teach us more about collaboration and empathy and respect than many of our so-called leaders these days. For the few hours I’ve got left as I write this, I’ll direct my thoughts back into the bush and with our herd.

Countering my own Earth Day rant

It’s Earth Day, 2017. This morning, I felt like writing a rant about the things we’ve done to fuck up this beloved planet of ours, and to complain about the egomaniacal, thing-filled greed that fuels the raping and pillaging of Planet Earth and the butchering of its wild animals, the slow execution of our reef systems, and the rampant willful ignorance that paralyses a government from acting to save ourselves from ourselves.

This will continue for as long as corporations keep the heroin needle of constant consumption in our arms, necessitating individually wrapped everything; ubiquitous use of convenient, single-use plastic bottles and wrappers and bags and cups; easy, convenient, processed consumables, disguised as food, laced with deforesting palm oil; absurdly low gas prices, “disposable” electronics, a government-subsidized diabetes epidemic, funded in part by a corn syrup industry and a PAC-funded government denial of the merits of real food. Corporate pockets will get deeper in direct correlation with the width of our waistlines; they will grow richer in inverse proportion to the level of natural resources remaining; they will get more resolute and change their doublespeak as our majestic wildlife, our tropical fauna, dwindles and fades into mere memory… paradise paved to put up a parking lot (or office park or housing tract), as it were; they will point fingers as coral reefs bleach, then die, and watch as the base of our planet’s ecosystem fails in an ignorant dismissal of science at all costs.

I wanted to rant about all this, but then got sidetracked by a quest for beauty this afternoon. A self-posed question of what I love about Planet Earth. What have I seen that has taken my breath away? If the only will or want I can control is my own: what can I share that might change someone else’s?

So on this Earth Day, I share some photos of the things on Planet Earth I’ve seen in my near half-century, as ocean temperatures rise and carbon levels increase and sugar-induced disease becomes endemic; these are the things that give me pause every day to stop and appreciate the Wonder that is inherent in this magnificent ball of rock that we inhabit, for as long as she will have us.

Happy Earth Day 2017.