The Cheetah Who Was Always on Watch

She is sitting so still that you almost miss her. Then a small face peeks out from behind the tree.

A cheetah mother and her cub.

She is long and lean, all legs and spots, with those dark tear lines running from her eyes. She does not look at us for long. Her eyes keep going back to the plain. Left. Right. Far away.

She is always on watch.

The cub is a different story. It is fluffy, a bit clumsy, and very interested in us. It peeks out, ducks back, then peeks out again, like a child playing hide and seek who has not worked out the rules.

The sun is hot on the roof. The grass is gold and dry and ticks in the wind.

Then the cub gives up on us and snuggles in against mum, pressed into her side. She lets it. She does not take her eyes off the plain.

You find yourself whispering, even though nobody asked you to.

It is a small, quiet moment. No chase. No drama.

Just a mother keeping her baby safe, the way mothers do everywhere.