This month, Mother Nature decided to skip the pleasantries entirely. One day it was 10 degrees, the next it was 31. No gentle easing into spring, just a full slap in the face of summer. It’s hot, it’s dry, it’s windy — which of course means fire season has arrived. The park staff are running around like contestants in a particularly stressful reality TV show, trying to stay one step ahead of the flames. Think The Amazing Race, but with more smoke and less prize money.
But enough about fire and brimstone. There are perks. The heat does make for excellent poolside afternoons, where elephants nonchalantly drink from the waterhole as if they’ve paid extra for the privilege of being your entertainment. And then there are the late-night braais, which are always improved by the sudden reminder that summer is back and you don’t need to wear every single item of clothing you own just to flip a steak.
Speaking of elephants, they’re everywhere. With water scarce and the sun relentless, they’re forced to pause their long-distance hikes for more frequent pit stops. Not that anyone is complaining — watching a herd rehydrate at close quarters is the kind of thing even seasoned guides can’t help gawking at. It’s basically the wildlife equivalent of Formula One’s pit lane, only with more mud and less strategy.
Now, for the big cats. The male lion we all thought might be doomed after last month’s skirmish has pulled a fast one on fate and bounced back, reuniting with his two brothers. They’ve sensibly retreated to our side of the reserve, which means we’ve had the pleasure of regular sightings. For now, everyone’s alive and well, for now though no roaring in stereo, keeping a low profile.
Over in lion politics (which, as always, rivals human politics for unnecessary drama), things seem to be settling. The Eastern pride has staked its claim around Kwa Maritane, while the Central pride has been showing up more often too. Best of all, a few of you lucky souls were treated to glimpses of the brand-new cubs, not even three months old. Nothing melts hearts faster than a tiny lion trying to look ferocious — it’s like watching a toddler with a plastic sword trying to take over the world. Adorable. Terrifying. Completely ineffective.
Leopards, meanwhile, are behaving like public transport: none for ages, then three arrive at once. Yes, in one single afternoon we had three active leopard sightings running concurrently. Add in the other scattered encounters throughout the month, and it feels like our elusive spotted residents have decided to make themselves a little less elusive — at least temporarily. Of course, by the time you arrive, they’ll probably vanish again, just to prove a point.
Cheetah sightings have also been solid. The two males on Black Rhino have been regulars, even pulling a stunt earlier this month by posing dramatically on a sign cairn in the middle of the park — because if you’re going to be a cheetah, you may as well embrace your inner influencer. Tale has also made an appearance with just one cub remaining. It’s bittersweet, but that’s life in the bush: brutal, beautiful, and unapologetic all at once. And yes, before you ask, cheetahs really do stand on rocks to pose — no, they are not trained, and yes, it always looks like they’re filming an advert for luxury watches.
So here we are, standing on the cusp of September — which, according to the calendar, is supposed to be spring. Instead, we’ve gone straight to summer, skipping the flowers and gentle mornings in favour of heat, dust, and longer days in the bush. The upside? Visibility is excellent right now, which makes this the best time of year to catch a glimpse of those harder-to-find cats. The downside? You’ll sweat through a shirt before breakfast and wonder why humanity hasn’t collectively invented air-conditioned safari vehicles.
We’ll keep our fingers crossed for early rain, though in the meantime, the only water we can count on is what we’re pouring over the braai. Fires remain a looming threat, but as always, we adapt, we carry on, and we make sure there’s always something cold in the fridge. Because at the end of the day, that’s the bush: chaotic, beautiful, and always one step away from either a postcard or a survival manual.
Until the next one,
The Buffalo Thorn Team