Amatikulu is a small nature reserve about 20 minutes from our boarding that we visited today for our morning walk. It is a beautiful and rarely visited reserve that abuts the Indian Ocean with the Nyoni river running through it and enough land to support a variety of wildlife, including zebra, giraffe, and a number of different bird species. We’ve been there once before with our friends, Peter and Christine Dunlop, and we wanted to return today to hopefully have a close encounter with the resident giraffe. I’ve long hoped for a closeup visit with these majestic animals. 

We hiked for about three miles and saw some zebra, but the giraffe were elusive. That was disappointing but minor in comparison to the enjoyment of being out in the African bush with a cool breeze blowing and miles of open space around us. We had the entire reserve to ourselves, and it was recharging to be out in the fresh air enjoying an early morning walk in such a pristine location. The air was filled with bird song, the buzzing of insects, and the distant roar of the Indian ocean. 

Our track eventually led us to a large expanse of open space with clear sight lines for viewing animals, but, still, no giraffe. We were getting close to calling it a day but decided to continue on a bit further as we knew the giraffe were somewhere on the reserve, and our hearts, ever hopeful, kept us moving forward. 

We carried on and soon came around a bend in the track where I spied a small lake off in the distance. I stopped and slowly scanned the tall grasses and trees around it and let out a happy shout when I spotted a small group of three giraffe almost perfectly camouflaged in the vegetation. I pointed them out to Sister Collins, and her response had an energy to it that seemed disproportionate to what we were seeing as the giraffe were small in number and quite distant. I pointed out the group to her again, and this time she said, with some urgency, “I see that group, but look to the right.” Now, I understood. A much larger group of giraffe, much larger than we had seen before, were gathered on the low veldt. It was like some large family reunion, and we stood motionless and marveled as the animals repositioned themselves so they all could get a direct look at us.

We took in the scene for a few moments, thankful for our perseverance and good fortune, and then noticed that there was another track close by that would take us closer to the animals. Slowly, we began walking in their direction, hoping our cautious movements would not scare them away. Soon, we were close, very close; and as sometimes happens in life, everything came together and worked out perfectly. The close encounter I had long hoped for came to pass. It was a perfect ending, to a perfect outing, on a perfect P-Day, in South Africa.

Epilogue: We were able to enjoy our “close encounter” for several minutes before the animals became restless, and, one by one, began moving away from us. At first, their path was parallel to ours, and periodically they would stop and peer out through the trees and brush to check on us. At one point, I made an estimation of their path forward and called out to Sister Collins to let her know my thinking. As I spoke, I swept my arm in front of me to indicate the possible route, and this startled the animals. As one, they took off running, crossing the track in front of us. It was a spectacular sight. They moved with a grace that belied their large size, and although they covered ground quickly, their long strides and fluid movements made it appear as if they were running in slow motion. We stood in awe as the scene unfolded before us, thankful to have witnessed such a singular event.