Klipspringer: The Baryshnikov of the Bush

Meet the graceful Klipspringer, the Baryshnikov of the Bush

This is an amazing animal, hardly ever seen because it is shy and camouflages itself in the African koppies - small, rocky hills in the veld. Watching this tiny antelope leap from rock to rock, all of various heights and widths is magical. Why the folks at Disney haven’t created a klipspringer character in one of its animated films is a crime.

All animals in the bush are magnificent for one reason or another, but this rock jumping dynamo of an antelope can leap up to 25 feet in the air. Their hooves are cylindrical and pointed, allowing them to spring from rock to rock on their toes, as gracefully as a ballet dancer at the Bolshoi.

The sight of a male and female leaping together from rock to rock is stunningly poetic and made me wish I had a replay button as I almost couldn’t believe that I was witnessing graceful movements on rugged and harsh terrain. When I saw my first Klipspringer, it stood majestically on a rock, daring any predators to invade its territory. They are monogamous and fierce defenders of their families.

I admire klipspringers. Their ability to adapt to some of the bushes harshes environments, their loyalty to their partners, and their diminutive bodies and demure behavior make me as excited as seeing the endangered cheetah or the elusive leopard in the bush.

I think it would be cool to be a klipspringer!

#klipspringer #baryshnikov #animalballet #writing #personalessays #lastmonthsinsouthafrica #disneycharacters

Comments

The Golden Glow of the Bush

The Golden Glow of the Bush I have seen some glorious skies during my travels around the world, from the smog-induced fluorescent sunsets in Moscow to the burning red horizon in Lake Tahoe. Looking up toward the heavens at dusk is my favorite time of day. But, nowhere have I ever been so mesmerized by the setting sun than in the bush. Why? Because the light the fading sun casts on the landscape is like no other. Call it the golden hour or the magic hour, or the hour when a quiet hush blankets the land as day turns to night. Birds sing their bedtime songs, jackals practice their forlorn calls, and predators wake, yawning widely, preparing for the hunt. The fading light signals transformation from the brightness to darkness, from things seen to those unseen. Lazy, sleeping lions transform from looking like cuddly stuffed animals to ferocious stalkers of anything that moves. Hunger calls them to action, stealthy and relentless in their pursuit. Owls waken, looking for bush animals on

Esther Mahlangu - Ndebele Artist

This beautiful woman is 92-years-old and lives in a small Ndebele village in Mpumalanga. Esther Mahlangu is an Outsider Artist, self-taught from the age of nine, who has achieved great success with her bold, colorful art reflecting traditional Ndebele culture. It’s not clear, but it seems she never went to school and can only write her name on her artwork. However, she has two honorary doctorates for her contributions to the art world. Her success was serendipitous. In 1986, researchers from France were roaming around looking for traditional art forms. One road led them to the artist’s village, where they became enthralled by Mahlangu’s uniquely painted houses. Right time, right road! They invited her to create murals for an international contemporary art exhibition at the Magiciens de la Terre in France. Her obscurity was soon over and she quickly became a phenomenon in the Pan-African art world. Her resume is awe-inspiring. Look her up, here’s one link - https://www.sahistory.org

Super Mom

Super Mom Super Mom Seeing a coalition of eight cheetahs in the bush is more than a lucky sighting; it is rare and magical. What's even crazier is that my friends and I had already seen this family many times during the year and a half before taking this photo. Here's their story. Two cheetah sisters had two litters around the same time. Sister one had six cubs, and sister two or three cubs. For whatever unexplainable reason, one of sister two's cubs migrated to sister one's family, making her the mother of seven. She quickly acquired the moniker of Super Mom by all the rangers in the park. One mom, seven cubs. She had to chase them all around when they were babies, feed them (they have about a 58% success rate when chasing down a meal), teach them the ways of the bush, and most of all, keep them safe. Whenever we saw them, they were healthy, playful, and did whatever mom told them to do - move, rest, get down from a tree, get out of the road, stay quiet! We grew

Donna Moreau - Writer On The Road

Search This Blog