A Feeling of Africa: limpopo

Showing posts with label limpopo. Show all posts

Tuesday 28 February 2017

African Leopard {Panthera pardus}

Black Pilot FineLiner ink sketch and W&N watercolour on Amedeo 200gsm - ©Maree Clarkson

An African Leopard (Panthera pardus pardus) sunning himself on some rocks. Powerful, graceful and arguably one of the most beautiful of all the large cats, the elusive leopard is a master of stealth and survival. I have ever only seen a Leopard once in my life, and that was in the Kruger National Park, but I recall many tales my Dad had to tell about this magnificent animal when we live in the Northern Transvaal whenI was a child.

One such story was about the night him and a few friends were fishing at the Albasini Dam just outside Louis Trichardt, Limpopo Province, (the then Northern Transvaal). They had their camp fire going and had some fish, freshly caught that day, on the braai. A rustling sound caught their attention and upon shining their powerful spotlight into the bush, they saw a Leopard in a crouching position. Like one man they all dashed for the Kombi, scrambling to all get in the same time, slamming the door shut quickly. They spent an uncomfortable night huddled in the Kombi in stead of their comfortable tents and, needless to say, the next morning the fish on the braai was burnt to a crisp!

In the Cape Province south of the Orange River (South Africa), they have been largely eradicated by stock farmers except in rugged mountainous areas. The Cape Leopard that lives in the Cape mountain range is much smaller than its big cousins in the Limpopo region. Their diet is probably the contributing factor, consisting mostly of dassies and much smaller prey.

The leopard lingered in the sun
Almost at close of day,
With all its hours almost done
And fast to ebb away…
The leopard let his memories
Remind him now and then,
Because he knew each day must cease
When moonlight shone again.

This day had seen new life, new death,
That’s how time passes by…
We understand while we draw breath
Until our final sigh…
The leopard knew his time was near,
Just like the sun above,
Yet leopards are not prone to fear,
That’s why they still share love…

His cubs were waiting down below,
As he watched like a king…
To see time like a river flow
To outlive everything…
Some day his cubs would watch in turn,
As their cubs played a while…
With each new day something to learn…
Some joy to raise a smile…
(The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called ‘Leopard Sunset’.)

🐾 A condition for which there is no cure

If you are already in Africa be aware that you have succumbed to a condition for which there is no cure. This is nothing new. It has puzzled many people for millennia. Some of them were great explorers (Livingstone), others famous physicians (Albert Schweitzer) and philosophers (Carl Jung). Way back in ancient times it had already been identified and given a name, yet to this day it has defied description. That is to say, nobody has ever been able to be precise about exactly what it is.

The symptoms are extraordinary. Your life will never be the same again. Those of us born here inherit the condition involuntarily. There is no escape, no known remedy. Others who come here, with few exceptions cannot resist the infection.

You have always been aware of nature, but in this condition the environment becomes dominant. The sun, the same sun that has tracked your every footstep in life, takes on a new aura, becomes awesome - as if you'd never noticed it before. The scope of your vision changes. You become preoccupied with distance, far horizons. At the same time you notice small things, subtleties that previously seemed irrelevant - shades of colours become more noticeable than colours themselves. Your hearing intensifies. Mechanical noises offend you as never before, you detect melodies in the trickle of a stream, hear voices in the rustling of leaves by the breeze.

The things you do in life become less important than the things you see, feel, and can touch. You find yourself behaving peculiarly - whispering in the presence of animals, stroking plants. Your spirit becomes detached, as if it wants to linger and be unhurried. Deep emotions are stirred within you. You laugh more easily, yet a sunset can bring tears to your eyes. Your values change. Mountains become friends, valleys pastures for your soul. You feel a constant urge to get out, to walk, to be free.

You meet people and interact with cultures that are totally removed from your own, yet that seem strangely familiar. You become more inclined to listen than to talk. A yearning develops within you, a longing that is at once satisfied yet never saturated. You feel compelled to come back again and again, and each time you do so the experience is somehow deeper than before.

In the African bush, far away from the surroundings you are accustomed to, you feel as though you have come home. Some say this is because your spirit recognizes the birthplace of its origin, others say it is because of the silence, because of the overwhelming presence of a creator. But nobody really knows. There is the grandeur, splendour, vastness, and remoteness that can be explained; the beauty, abundance of birds, animals, plants, and flowers. But beyond that there is something that defies description either by adjectives or expletives.

This something is the mystique of Africa and the malady to which you have succumbed is what was called mal d'Afrika by the Latins many centuries ago. These days the French call it mal d'Afrique.

It is said that there is a time and a place for everything. Africa never partook in the industrial revolution, nor the technological era. Largely it was left behind by the developments of the 20th century, the same century that in bringing great wealth to many nations, damaged the environment so alarmingly and caused such fatigue to the spirit of humans. Now an interesting situation has developed.

Africa's great nature resources coupled with its shortage of cash on the one hand, is balanced on the other against the wealth and desire of the people in the advanced countries to be reconnected with nature, with themselves and with their roots. Each has what the other needs, and this at a time when the circumstances in which to make a fair exchange could hardly be better. Non-stop flights in wide-bodied jets from almost anywhere at reasonable prices are no longer a novelty.

The only question is how to make the exchange 'fair'. Mal d'Afrika after all is not for sale. One can experience and be captivated by it, but not own it. There would be no point in swapping cash for culture, heritage for hedonism. It would be a tragedy if the specialness of the African environment were to be consumed rather than consecrated, for it is the last of its kind that is left. It could with proper management and care become the saviour of Africa and its people, the resource and characteristic that will mark the place of this continent in the global community.

The key to the answer is balance. Most people know that and many are striving toward its accomplishment. It is this striving that has led to the founding of Open Africa. It envisages heralding an environmental epoch in which development is based on the sustainable use of inherent natural and cultural resources. There are many good reasons why this is worth striving for, not the least of which is that the whole world may succumb to mal d'Afrika.
-- Noel N. de Villiers, CEO and Founder of Open Africa

I was born in South Africa and have lived here all my life. The experience of living in Africa is like no other. Africa seems to fold you in her bosom, creeping deep into your being, pulling you close to Nature and never losing her grip.

I have a close connection to Mother Earth and all the animals, especially birds. It seems to have been my life's mission to rescue birds and other animals, nursing them back to health and then releasing them back into nature.

Africa is filled with joy and sorrow. There's joy in new life, there's joy in the success of releasing a bird back into nature, there's joy and beauty in every little wild flower and there's joy in every African sunrise. But the sorrow is real and harsh - only the fittest survive.

I prefer not to dwell too much on the sorrow and on these pages I will show you the beauty of my wonderful country and tell you about my life in Africa.