The Birds You Nearly Missed

Everyone is scanning for lions. Then something in the grass lifts its head and wears a crown.

Grey crowned cranes. Two of them, feeding slowly through the grass. A golden puff of feathers on top of each head, like a fancy hat for a wedding. Pale grey bodies. A little splash of red.

They look too smart for the place they are standing in.

The vehicle stops. You watch them step and peck, step and peck. Not a sound. Just the soft swish of grass against their legs and the wind in your ears.

You forget about the lions for a bit.

Further on, a bird sits on the bare branches of a dead tree, sharp against the sky, perfectly still. It has the best view on the plain and it knows it. It does not move. You do not move.

That is the thing about birds on safari. They do not come to you. You have to slow right down and start looking properly.

And when you do, the plain fills up. Colour in the grass. Shapes in the trees. Life everywhere you had not noticed.

You came for the giants. The small things stayed with you.