I was reading of yet another unfortunate elephant incident in India:
“According to the forest officer’s account, the elephant was crossing the road when the car reached the spot. The family of three which was moving in the car tried to drive the jumbo away. Their efforts — blaring of horns and flickering dipper — were enough to agitate the animal which in a fit of rage flipped the car.” Article at the link below.
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.
I did not get a chance to set eyes on the iconic Galagamuwa tusker, nor will I ever be able to. In the wake of the flurry of emails, news articles, blogs, and facebook posts that have followed this tragedy however, it is easy to get so overwhelmed by frustration that we seek out someone to blame – anyone. It would be easy to blame the vets, to blame the Department of Wildlife Conservation, to blame the villagers etc. and the list goes on. But that would be a mistake and a greater tragedy. Let this death bring about changes in the way that HEC is dealt with at its most fundamental level, not simply a witch-hunt. To that end, I’m posting information to correct some of the misinformation out there, and thoughts on where this is all going.
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.
Morning mist
Jan. 25-Feb. 09 2007 – – –
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 