The herd emerged from the bush, restless and eager to move. The stragglers lingered while the youngsters trumpeted impatiently, urging them on. Morning had broken, and with it came a surge of energy eager to be burned.
I was parked alone on the road when I noticed commotion ahead. I zoomed in, taking a few shots, when suddenly the elephants gathered themselves and began descending as one towards the watering hole. The problem? My car was directly in their path.
They advanced together, ears flapping, dust rising, trumpets echoing. They filled the frame, though I had to keep zooming out to avoid cutting off the edges of the herd. Through the viewfinder, distance vanished. Normally, someone else in the car would warn me how close the animals were, or the driver would know when to move. But I was the driver, the photographer, and the distance calculator.
For a moment, everything aligned perfectly until I looked up. They were closer than I had realised. I have never started a car and reversed so quickly. In a blur, I pulled back to safety.
The herd rushed past without so much as a glance, streaming down to the waterhole. More elephants appeared than I had first counted, trumpeting merrily as they kicked up a cloud of dust. And just like that, it was over, an exhilarating encounter gone in moments, leaving only the echo of their passage.
Taken in the Addo National Park, South Africa.
The herd emerged from the bush, restless and eager to move. The stragglers lingered while the youngsters trumpeted impatiently, urging them on. Morning had broken, and with it came a surge of energy eager to be burned.
I was parked alone on the road when I noticed commotion ahead. I zoomed in, taking a few shots, when suddenly the elephants gathered themselves and began descending as one towards the watering hole. The problem? My car was directly in their path.
They advanced together, ears flapping, dust rising, trumpets echoing. They filled the frame, though I had to keep zooming out to avoid cutting off the edges of the herd. Through the viewfinder, distance vanished. Normally, someone else in the car would warn me how close the animals were, or the driver would know when to move. But I was the driver, the photographer, and the distance calculator.
For a moment, everything aligned perfectly until I looked up. They were closer than I had realised. I have never started a car and reversed so quickly. In a blur, I pulled back to safety.
The herd rushed past without so much as a glance, streaming down to the waterhole. More elephants appeared than I had first counted, trumpeting merrily as they kicked up a cloud of dust. And just like that, it was over, an exhilarating encounter gone in moments, leaving only the echo of their passage.
Taken in the Addo National Park, South Africa.
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