Today we (Sameera & I) had a narrow escape from two big bulls who were in peak musth. It was the Kiral Ara road where the area is totally covered by large bushes, particularly Lantana. While we searching for elephants as usual, I smelled musth and was trying to find the musth males. There were lots of foot prints by a group of elephants and lots of broken branches by the road.
AVOID this elephant if you come across him.
Recent events, including some news I got just this morning, was the inspiration for this post. It’s dedicated to the elephant few people are fortunate to to see. I don’t mean any particular elephant – not a tusker, or some performer of odd tricks. I mean the elephant who is not raiding a crop. The elephant who is not injured by a train. The elephant who is not being shot at, or bombarded with flames. The elephant who is not charging, or fleeing, in terror. The elephant who is not trying to hide in the bushes at the first scent of humans. The elephant who is not grieving its lost calf. In short, I mean the elephant at peace. That elephant.
In Uda Walawe, as in few other places, the Asian elephant can be seen at peace. A herd drifts by in the tall grass, rustling and rippling in the breeze, as they glide smoothly like a small convoy of ships. An ear flaps with the thud of a sail unfurling. There is nothing but the sound of the wind, the birds, and the munching of many mouths.
Today we spent some time among a group that we fondly call ‘The Amazons.’ They are quite simply the biggest females we have ever seen. Amazons, of course, are the famed fictional tribe of female (human) warriors. This group of elephants isn’t particularly fierce, they are just quite tall. What’s special about them is that they have a penchant for coming up to the jeep, and for all intents and purposes, appearing to fall asleep around us (standing up). It’s not entirely clear to us whether this is unique to our jeep, or whether they would do the same to any other vehicle that showed up in front of them and sat still long enough. We remember the first day we ever met this group… Continue reading
July 28th 2006 – – –
It’s the height of the dry season, and this year the reservoir is full of elephants. Last year, they didn’t come down at all – on my very last day in August, I saw just one group crossing it in a hurry. This year, around every corner there is a large group of elephants. There must have been several hundred animals altogether, including calves. It’s almost like what I’ve read of African elephants – but these groups are very distinctly separated. The individuals in them don’t seem to be there by chance. Instead, there are certain elephants who seem to be found ‘together’ a lot of the time, though not always. Were they families? Extended families? Who knew.
April 24th 2007, When it rains it pours – – –
The monsoon is in full force. Temperatures reach 38 degrees Celsius by nine o’clock in the morning. The grass is tall and green. Not one blade nor one leaf moves. Every little sound is audible, a myriad birds sing. Perched on the bars, an umbrella doubles as a parasol. Clothes feel wet and heavy, no solace from humidity in the shade. Continue reading
Maximus 