'The bush' is a word which changed its meaning when it travelled. In England, it means a single plant, a shrub, but when transposed to Africa or Australia it suddenly takes on a much grander sense: it describes wilderness, vast swathes of it, empty land and, somehow, dry, dusty and a little bit dangerous. This picture, in Namibia, is of close bush....
....where the ground shows evidence of something which can't be seen but passed by perhaps a day before, perhaps only ten minutes ago and might, at this moment, be standing, watching, at no distance.
This is open bush in Tanzania, with a termite mound at right and a dom palm beyond. The vegetation of this landscape is fashioned by the animals which inhabit it, by the elephants which tear off branches and knock over trees, by....
....the giraffe which browse the lower leaves, by insects and termites, by humans and by fire.
This is the African bush at its most beautiful, parkland savanna dominated by acacia trees and grazed by delicate antelope such as impala and springbok....
....and this is how the bush should be seen, on foot, not hidden in a vehicle but on a level with the bush's inhabitants, albeit with an armed guard.
These thoughts arise from another of those moments when, for no good reason, the memory of a place flashes into mind so vividly that I can feel the heat of the bush and smell its dust and recall....
....the silence that enfolds it as the sun sets on another African day.
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