Serengeti National Park

This beautiful day was dedicated to seeing a wildebeest crossing, the unique annual ritual in which the millions of wildebeest migrate north to Kenya, crossing the Mara river on their way.  The density of wildebeests near the river was incredible; we stopped among them and all you could hear was their slow walking, chewing, and lowing.  From time to time they would seem to line up and head in one direction, but then inexplicably turn around and head back.  It seemed impossible to figure out what system if any they were following, but they did clearly enjoy queuing up even more than the English.  After much waiting and positioning, we caught the very end of a small crossing, but our guides were sure that there would be another nearby.  We waited for a couple of hours, sitting in the heat under a tree, dozing away near some other similarly determined groups.  Only after a long time did we realize that there was a skeletal pelvis in the branches above us, the leftovers from a leopard dinner some days before.  Oh dear.  

Finally, for no particular reason, one group of wildebeest slowly migrated closer and closer to the bank of the river.  They milled about, seemingly entirely uninterested in water or walking, and then suddenly one crashed down the slope and jumped into the river.  Others followed, all in a line, hurling themselves down the bank and across the river, almost going under.  They wore away paths in the bank and kicked up enormous clouds of dust.  On the other side, they struggled to climb a smooth rock, jumping over each other and scrabbling away.  We cheered them on, caught up in the moment, coaching them to try just a little more to the left, to avoid the rocks, to look out for crocodiles.  A group would come across, then there would be a slight pause, we would think it was over, but more would come.  The calves were just as fearless (or heedless) as the adults, swimming and leaping across, determinedly throwing themselves up the bank.  Once they made it across, the scampered past all the circling Land Cruisers and ran past us to form a large, damp, dripping mass of survivors.  One poor adult got separated from his family and swam back for them, then led them all across together.  Another got to the far side, seemed to eye the steep bank and slick rocks with some concern, and gave it up as a bad idea, returning to the south side.  It was fascinating and beautiful and a bit mysterious, but we certainly enjoyed our role as wildebeest commentators!  It was so exciting that we took almost as many action photos as there were wildebeest, a fraction of which below document the spectacle.  

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© 2017 Stephen and Mary Linton Peters