Sleeping With Lions

I have just returned from a wonderful two-week photo safari in Tanzania.

Here are some impressions from my time in Tanzania. It was a time of both dead silence and many sounds. When there were no animals about, the night was totally silent. Other nights were busy with the sounds of the larger wildlife. Some days my eyes were overwhelmed by the vast numbers of animals (wildebeests and zebras), while others challenged us to find the very elusive leopard.

At night, as I lay in my tent (a large, nice tent with indoor plumbing and electric lights), I listened to the grunting of hippos ashore to feed. I heard the plaintive cries of hyenas, and the roaring of lions. If we ventured out of our tents after dark, we had to be escorted by a spear-wielding Maasai warrior. This was a good precaution, as early one morning a male lion was walking around the tent of one person in our group! Unlike at home, when birds aren't heard chirping and singing until dawn, birds in Tanzania started their morning serenades long before sunrise.

A muddy spotted hyena

The sounds of hundreds of thousands of wildebeests and the shrill cries of tens of thousands of plains zebras filled our days as they milled around waiting for one of their number to start moving as part of their annual migration.

We enjoyed bowls of creamy hot soups made of pumpkin, zucchini, cucumber and other vegetables. We all looked forward to finding out which soup would be part of dinner each night. Fresh bread made from scratch complemented the soups. I loved the sweet, juicy pineapple and delicious slices of mango. Everything was fresh and made from scratch.

The warm smiles and cries of 'jambo' (hello) from lodge staff greeted us throughout the day. Every person I encountered, from the resident chef to our Maasai escorts at night, was friendly and helpful. Our guides/drivers, Angelbert and Tom, took such good care of us. They both have an uncanny ability to spot even the smallest sunbathing lizard on a rock, a colorful small bird on a tree branch, and a camouflaged leopard walking through tall grasses. I started calling Tom 'Gentleman Tom' because he was always there to lend a hand. When I slipped on a very muddy step while exiting our Land Cruiser and twisted my leg, it was Tom who came to my rescue. 

We saw many beautiful birds, an amazing sunrise and sunset,

and so many wildebeests and zebras on their annual migration that the horizon was blackened by their presence. We watched in awe as a mother lion carried her four cubs to a new, hidden location. She picked each one up by the back of the neck and moved it, and then she went back to get the others one at a time. The next morning we laughed as she repeatedly tried to corral her wandering offspring. She would get three of them back into the brush, but as she went after the last one, the other three would emerge to follow her. One little one (we assume it was the same cub) kept wandering off in the opposite direction. Finally she got them all tucked away and settled down to nurse.

Spending 90 minutes with two cheetah brothers as they walked slowly across the grassy plains, taking time for a quick roll in the damp grass, was a real treat, as was photographing them as they seemed to pose in a tree. The day before, a different cheetah chased -- and barely missed -- a gazelle that was on the dinner menu. Unfortunately, slipping on a muddy step while exiting the vehicle and twisting my leg prevented me from standing up on the seat to watch the chase.

Of course, not everything we saw was pleasant to contemplate. We saw a baby zebra with a hind leg it couldn't use. We saw several baby wildebeests that had been separated from their mothers in part of the massive herd. One was running back and forth desperately trying to find her in the huge herd. Another stood alone a good distance from the herd. Lone animals, particularly the young ones, stand no chance of escaping hungry lions, leopards and hyenas. One of our guides noted that only half of all wildebeests born in a given season (most are born within the same month) survive to their first birthday. 

We spent several minutes watching dozens of vultures of various kinds, along with marabou storks, battle with hyenas over the carcass of a wildebeest. The birds won the battle, with the hyenas leaving for a bit, and then returning at a respectable distance. Vultures are not attractive birds by any measure, but the marabou stork gets the prize for ugliest animal in Africa.

Toward the end of the trip, so much rain fell that some of the roads were washed away. We even spotted a catfish on a flooded road!  Our planned visit to a pool that usually was occupied by dozens of hippos was shortened dramatically due to the rains, which had turned the pool into a raging torrent of water, sending the hippos to calmer waters. We even spotted a large catfish on a road that had flooded with overflow from a river some 100 meters away.

Despite all my visits to Africa, the thrill of seeing magnificent elephants, mischievous baboons and vervet monkeys, birds of vibrant colors, graceful giraffes and a variety of antelope and gazelles always calls me back for more. Each day, each sunrise, each sighting is unique.

I haven't uploaded or edited most of my images from this trip yet, but more will be shared soon.

Seeking Beauty

I spent yesterday working on a flower calendar because I need to replace the hatred and negativity that is everywhere with something beautiful. 

Following my third retina repair surgery since spring, I am facing the possibility that vision in my right eye may never be the way it used to be. While I can 'see' with that eye, I only see shapes and colors, with no details. I am unable to read with that eye, even with a magnifying lens. And my tar and gravel roof has started leaking, resulting in damage to the ceiling in the pantry. So times have been a bit rough for me lately.

So I decided to focus on things of beauty -- flower photos. I put together a calendar that is now for sale for $22, domestic postage included. Proceeds will go to the Elephant Crisis Fund to combat elephant poaching and the trafficking of ivory. As I looked at these photos, several of which I took last year in Costa Rica, it was as if I saw them for the first time. The colors seemed so vibrant!




This morning, I awoke to news of the slaughter of 58 people and the wounding of more than 500 others in Las Vegas.

With all the ugliness and anger in the world, I find myself turning more and more to nature for comfort.

"Nature is not a place to visit. It is home," wrote.Gary Snyder. And right now, we need more nature, more beauty, more reflection, more peace. 

I find peace and relaxation in nature, whether walking along a river, hiking in the mountains, sitting on my patio or photographing wildlife in Africa or in Yellowstone National Park. Nature is where I go when the worries and fears of the world threaten to overwhelm me. 

Wherever you find peace and beauty, I hope you visit often. Find what brings you peace, whether it is music or literature or through the lens of a camera. Find it, cherish it and make it an important part of your life.

Sounds

As I was lying in bed early one spring morning after taking care of my dogs, I realized how quiet it is at my house. That quiet is one of the reasons I bought this house. It's on 1/2 acre, so I have no immediate neighbors, and the lot to the east is still undeveloped. There are no sidewalks, and the roads are not paved. One of the things I disliked about my house in California was all the surrounding noise. It wasn't far from a busy expressway, the houses are jammed together, and my house was near a busy park that was home to never-ending Little League baseball games nine months of the year. So when I moved to New Mexico, I looked for a house with lots of peace and quiet.

I started to think about sound. My world is never completely quiet, as I have suffered from tinnitus (ringing in the ears) for as long as I can remember. And my hearing isn't normal, either, as an inner ear infection when I was 10 years old took about 2/3 of the hearing in my left ear. The hearing in my other ear, however, is better than normal.

But I digress. I think of myself as more of a visual than auditory person, given my passion for photography and writing. But there are certain sounds that are wonderful to listen to, and others that drive me up a wall.

Sounds I enjoy include

• a tennis ball hitting a racquet's sweet spot
• a whale exhaling as it breaks the water's surface
• wolf howls
• coyote songs
• the chug-chug of a train 
• the sound of a train whistle in the distance
• running water in a stream or river
• saxophone music
• boots crunching on crisp snow  
• rain on the roof
• the propane burner of a hot air balloon
• the afterburners of a high-performance jet
• birds chirping

 I used to live just a couple of blocks from a railroad track, and I always enjoyed hearing the trains going by late at night, whistle blowing. And years ago the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., had a huge locomotive on display. Every so often a recording of the train chugging alone and blowing its whistle would play.

Sounds I really don't like

• crying babies
• the shrill voices of little kids
• traffic noise
• fax machines
• honking horns
• loud motorcycles 
• loud people
• the generic noise of a crowd of people
• howling winds

Some people go crazy when they hear the squeaking of Styrofoam. That sound doesn't bother me much. But a crying or worse, screaming, baby quickly sends me to the breaking point.

What became obvious as I wrote this list is that the most annoying sounds are predominantly not natural, while the sounds I like are mostly the sounds of nature. But these days, the sounds of nature are too often drowned out by the artificial noise that has taken over our world: blaring televisions, booming music, obnoxious commercials, traffic, crowds, hovering helicopters, honking horns. Some people feel a need to have the television on whether they are watching it or not, just for the noise. I am not one of those people.

Music is another sound that I greatly enjoy, but it has to be my kind of music.  I like classic rock, classical music, easy listening, smooth jazz and I can listen to country music, although I don't care for the super twangy stuff. I cannot stand rap, however. Good music can be relaxing and distracting, and it can be a real mood booster. Who doesn't enjoy driving down the highway with the stereo turned up, grooving to our favorite tunes?

I do know that the wrong kinds of sounds can affect my mood. When I lived in Moscow (a bustling city of more than 11 million people with very impatient drivers and terrible traffic), the cacophony of traffic -- squealing brakes, honking horns, revving engines -- could turn a good mood into a bad one very quickly. It was difficult to relax and to sleep with the constant noise. But the sounds of nature are very relaxing and calming. Walking or hiking in the forest or on a beach is a wonderful way to let go.

I appreciate knowing which sounds are irritating and which are soothing, so I can minimize exposure to the former and maximize exposure to the latter. So think about how sounds impact you, then make a point of surrounding yourself with your favorite sounds.

Nature's Healing Touch

May the sun bring you energy by day.
May be moon softly restore you by night.
May the rain wash away your worries.
May the breeze blow new strength into your being.
May you walk gently through the world and
Know its beauty all the days of your life.

Apache blessing

Isn't this a beautiful blessing? It speaks to me of the healing power of nature, and just reading it gives me a sense of peace as I contemplate the feelings of the sun, rain, moon and breeze.

My daughter and I recently took a trip to Russia, the country where she was born, with a 6-day stop in London on the way.  London, Moscow and St. Petersburg, where we visited, are major cities with millions of residents. People rush aout, pushing and shoving and in general behaving rudely. Streets everywhere are packed with people and traffic. Drivers show their impatience at the slightest delay by blasting their horns. Tourist spots are jam-packed with people. Although I enjoyed our visit, I was more than ready to get back to the peace and quiet of my home in New Mexico.

It's easy to forget how much strength and rejuvenation I get from spending time in nature. The quiet and peacefulness calm frayed nerves. The colors of the crystal blue sky, a gorgeous sunrise and flowers in bloom are a feast for the eyes. The smell -- of pine trees or the desert after a (too-rare) rain -- is delightful. And the sound -- or absence of noise from traffic, sirens and auto horns -- is a welcome relief. I love sitting in a secluded spot, listening to the birds sing, the wind in the trees, and the absence of noise.

My house is filled with images of nature -- wolves, sunrises, sunflowers -- soothing earth tones and lots of light from large windows and several skylights. I can see the Sandia Mountains from my bedroom, living room, dining room, office and back yard. While they lack the beauty of the red rocks of Sedona and southern Utah, it still is such a treat to see the Sandias in their magnificence and changing moods every day.

I also now understand how crucial it is that I be outdoors in the light, whether hiking, walking around, driving with the windows down and sunroof open, or dining on a restaurant patio. I just naturally gravitate toward the light and the outdoors. I have always needed lots of sunlight, but during a trip to New Mexico a few years ago, I realized just how much I need it and how I unconsciously sought the comfort of sunshine and open spaces. 

I am blessed to live in a state with so much natural beauty and so many open spaces. Just 2 miles from my house, I can walk along the Rio Grande on wooded trails. Or I can walk on a dirt path between acequias, part of a 200-year-old gravity-powered irrigation system still in use today. I did that this morning, and was treated to the sounds of chirping birds and buzzing cicadas, and the sight of scampering lizards and horses peacefully grazing in their pasture. This was a much-needed respite, and a good reminder that I need to get out and do this more often.

Seeing Nature Anew

It wasn't the kind of day I typically like to be outside. It was a cool 47 degrees, windy and cloudy, the kind of day that often puts a damper on my spirits. But this day, something was different. Toward the end of a solitary, 2-mile walk along a flood control canal, I sat on a bench in a reflective mood. Suddenly, I started to enjoy this early-winter day.

I sat and looked at the gray, hulking, 10-million-year-old Sandia Mountains to the east, with their pockets of new snow in a few areas on the slopes. I listened, and I didn't hear quail making their strange sounds, or the gratingly irritating calls of roadrunners. I heard nothing but a dog barking in the distance and the wind rattling the dead leaves of a nearby tree. I felt the dryness and coolness of the desert air. I smelled the dry leaves of aspen and chamisa and other desert plants. I felt the wind on my face, and I felt at peace, snug and warm in my fleece jacket.

It wasn't a day for photography or for soaking up the sun. It wasn't a day for riding my bike. It was a day for homemade soup, a solitary walk, and enjoying nature from a different perspective.

Appreciating Nature

Most of us in today's urban society are so separated from nature that we don't realize what we are missing. Living in overdeveloped, crowded, traffic-choked, over-paved communities where nature is, if we're lucky, found only in a few isolated parks, we are cut off from the benefits Mother Nature offers us. And the sad thing is, many people don't know what they are missing.

We don't need to disappear into the wilderness for days or weeks at a time to benefit from nature. For me, a walk through the bosque along the Rio Grande River, a challenging 8-mile hike in my favorite California county park or listening to the sounds of the ocean are among the most relaxing and enjoyable things I know. Another special treat is getting to spend time with the wolf-dogs at the rescue where I volunteer. Sitting in a pen with one of these magnificent animals is a special blessing. To me, wolves epitomize the beauty of nature.

Since I now live in the high desert of New Mexico, there are no ocean waves to listen to. The hiking, rather than along forested trails, is through rocky areas often exposed to the blistering sun. The Rio Grande, following a severe and on-going drought, looks anything but grand. Still, nature is here and to be enjoyed if I will but look for it.

Looking out my kitchen window, I often see rabbits, both cottontail and jack rabbits, feeding at the pan of bird seed I set out every day. They frequently are joined by quail and smaller birds. One winter day I spied a Cooper's hawk perched in a tree just outside my office window. On a walk along a paved trail not far from home, I saw an owl perched on a fence post.

This week, I spotted my first-of-the-year family of quail: mother in the lead, 10 babies scurrying behind her, and father bringing up the rear. I also see quail and roadrunners, and once in a while a small lizard, in my back yard. Roadrunners are funny birds, speeding across the road, leaning forward as if into a howling wind. They have feathers that stick up like unruly hair on the back of their heads. And unlike the 'beep beep' of cartoon roadrunners, they make an unusual metallic noise when irritated. The high-pitched sounds of quail are commonly heard during my daily walks around the neighborhood.

If I'm lucky, I may hear the howling of coyotes late at night or very early in the morning. I have seen these elusive animals only twice in the year since I moved here, and both times I was without a camera. They silently and quickly slipped across the road and into the sagebrush, totally disappearing from view.

From the windows of my home office, I look out on the expansive New Mexico sky and the Sandia mountains only a few miles away. I have seen gorgeous red sunrises and the mountains frosted with snow. The sunrise at left was beautiful beyond belief. I was fortunate to have a small camera with me that day. An enlargement of this picture on canvas hangs on my bedroom wall. It is one of the first things I see when I wake every morning.

A couple of weeks ago I spent the day at Ghost Ranch, made famous by the great American painter Georgia O'Keeffe. It was a wonderful, relaxing day spent by myself, hiking and photographing the fascinating rock formations of the area under a brilliant blue sky..

Sometimes nature is right outside my window. At other times, I have to drive a couple of hours to reach one of the many spectacular places in this beautiful state. So turn off the television, leave the cell phone inside, grab a cup of coffee and head to your patio or nearby park. Listen, really listen, to the sounds of nature. What is important isn't where we find nature. What is important is that we do find nature and take full advantage of the healing properties it offers.