It’s in the stillness of a Zululand dawn (that’s why we set our alarms at silly o’clock) when a spotted hyena ends her nightly rounds standing sentinel on a hilltop plateau. It’s when a lioness waits on a rise at the blue hour or when the sun comes up and the early birds lining a reed-fringed lagoon create shapely silhouettes against a sky that begins the colour of ripe peaches then turns bright as an orange.  

It’s in the distant vision, on a far ridge, of a kingly male kudu tossing spiralled horns as he parades against the skyline. It’s in the guile of a young male lion – pretender to the throne – slinking through the bush or lying low ready to pounce in grass that by now is as tawny as his coat. Its in the confident, but careful stride of a male cheetah measuring its territory and pausing to scent mark a prominent thorn tree to post notice he’s been by.

It’s in the hum of an enclosing dusk when two sibling cheetah males melt into the bush against the blue fade of the Lebombo mountains. In the wind-tossed feathers of a knock-kneed spoonbill hunting the pond one last time before nightfall. It’s when a gangly, google-eyed thick-knee bird flies in unexpectedly at twilight when you’re crouched in the dark of an overnight hide and poses by the light – unaware of the out-of-nowhere spot of wonderful side-lighting it’s gifted you.

It’s in the tiny kingfisher clinging to a reed, the massive tusker towering over you (when you’re in the night-hide like you’re momentarily in the trailer for the next iteration of ‘Jurassic Park’). It’s in the sudden soaring of a secretarybird, its wingspan pushing at the confines of your frame.

It’s when a ubiquitous Egyptian goose suddenly lights up a hide session with a crazy bathing session or brings its six new goslings for a swimming session in the little pool where you’re concealed in perfect position to capture the intimate family moment just perfectly.

It’s in a quiet creek where you’re parked in the water (for the best low angle) beneath the same young predatory pretender as he bides his time, right there, right above you. He’s so not fazed. Not a whisker twitches at your close proximity. Yet your own heart is beating louder than a jungle drum. It’s in the fixated stare of a giraffe focused firmly on a lioness who sits regally just a few metres from her and, come to think of it just a stone’s throw from your room in the nearby homestead.

It’s also in the quiet riverine valley where elephants feed and a rhino mother protects a tiny calf. It’s on the plateau where carnivores and carrion-eaters assemble theatrically to flash talons and claws as they scrap over scraps.

It’s there in the impossible to resist anthropomorphism when you come face to face with a troop of mischievous monkeys as curious in you as you are in them, the ‘kisses’ exchanged when mammals go cheek to cheek or birds beak to beak. The laughter at those comedic moments on safari when the animal world appears to all too accurately reflect and resonate with our own.

It’s in the moments you break the fourth wall – getting down from a game vehicle to hunker low for better photography (safely and ethically, of course). When you experience what it feels like to come face to face with a wild subject in ways we imagine no AI prompt could ever faithfully recreate.

It’s in the moments shared with fellow photographers as passionate about wildlife as yourself. It’s in the telling of tales, the swapping of advice.

It’s in a name. Zimanga. Meaning ‘something amazing’.

The time has come to wind up our visit to this reserve for 2025 with a special  thanks to Charl and Mariska and all on Zimanga for their help and hospitality this year. Special thanks go to Ndu and Mimi and our housekeeper at Doornhoek homestead for taking such wonderful care of us. We will never forget those amazing peanut butter cups. Our American guests agreed they were tastier than the ones back home.

Thanks a million and more to our excellent guide Frikkie. You got us all the best angles and taught that patience always pays.

Before we go let’s have another round of peanut butter cups as we thank the gang. That’s a ‘whoa’ back at ya’ TH – btw we’ll check on your toad when we’re back next year. Thanks also to TB and RE who must ever be honoured for starting the whole artery-furring, but delicious peanut butter cup thing (PS monkey **** blue is now a thing and trending). To SE whose camera was never far from her eye, nor a smile from her lips. And last, but not least, thanks to twin-sister Kitty BH and to SH who thankfully is not quite yet as grumpy and cynical as ST – but is clearly working on it!