The Power Of A Matriarch

We've been here in India and I've found it to be a great place for getting your creative juices flowing once again. The noise, colors and music can't help, but make you productive, as it seems everyone here is in a hurry to somewhere. But this post is neither here nor there, it's about a moment in Africa.

As part of our introduction/initiation process onto the Acacia Truck, Matt and I had to give the group reasons as to why we decided to travel to Africa (followed by a swig of 98% vodka, then an unsuccessful attempt in saying your full name without coughing - not an easy task). For Matt, it was the landscapes and World Heritage Sites. For me, it was to see the African elephants. All my life, I've always admired them for their grandior, intelligence and strong family ties - they have even been shown to assimilate a burial ceremony for their kin, i.e. the elephant funeral. So, the first time we spotted a herd of elephants in the Serengeti, I was beyond excited.

We watched in silence as a head matriarch quietly led her family only a few meters in front of our open-roofed safari truck. Just seeing that, I was in awe. I can't imagine what she may have thought of us. Perhaps we were some strange creature from outer space  with a large shiny body that sprouted 8 heads, each with one long extending eye (aka: the camera zoom). We must have looked very strange indeed, because shortly after she got the herd safely across the road, she double-timed it back towards us to get a closer peek. She moved with purpose and then suddenly stopped on a dime, causing her large Africa-shaped ears to swing forward in the momentum. She stood still as a board, and glared right into our pupils, trying to make heads or tales of the danger we presented.

Photo Courtesy of Stacey Berg

As I stared blankly back into her dark little eyes, I held my breathe. (1...2...3...) She had stood long enough. She had made her point, her presence known. She slowly turned her back to us and followed after the herd. Even after she was far in the distance, I still felt her presence. A true matriarch, she was mesmerizing.

Photo Courtesy of Stacey Berg

P.S.
My camera died during this whole occurrence, but thankfully Stacey, our fellow passenger, took pity on me and gave me a few of her photos. Thanks, Stacey! :)

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