Maasai Mara, Kenya

It was a quiet day on the savannah. The animals went about their business without excitement. No hysterical hyenas. No gazelles running for their lives. No lions fighting to protect their kill. No kills. At least none that we saw.

No worries, no troubles. It truly was a hakuna matata kind of day. (No groaning, you knew this was coming.) 

And the colors. An orangier sunrise I can’t imagine. And find one with a tower of giraffes outlined against the horizon, like this: 

As the sky brightened and the day settled in, the clouds were the fluffiest cumulus clouds I think I have ever seen. When we stopped for lunch, I was struck by the different shades of green, bright, pastel and deep. So there it is, green hills against blue sky and cottony clouds. The landscape never looked so crisp and vivid, which is what you’d expect after the tremendous thunder storm we had last night.

After the giraffes, we ran into a major herd of buffalo. Of the big five, the buffalo is the most aggressive, the most dangerous. But from the way they sauntered across the road in front of us, you’d never think so. The herd was at least 100 strong. Many juveniles and babies. 

No sooner did we bid the buffalo farewell, Miton caught a glimpse of a herd of elephants – ellies, as he calls them. Eleven. We drove over and stopped a distance in front so they’d walk past us. And they did. Quiet and content. 

And just as we were about to give up on a lion sighting, Lone (pronounced Luna), spotted one on the tree-covered hillside. It was there and then it was gone. We recorded the sighting and drove off when Miton stopped to talk to two boys with their cattle. They pointed us back to the hillside, but a bit to the east. Sitting on the same hill, but on a rocky cover, were two stately females, eyeing the cattle below.

But they stayed put, ending our day on the same peaceful note with which it started.

The day was a gift, as all days here are. This one was a little different. No excitement. Just color and calm.

Hakuna Matata