‘The dry season stronghold’, ‘the magic hour (make that ten minutes)’, ‘the grazers queuing at the waterhole’. What a load of pious, frankly erroneous tripe. Long sunny dusty days may suit the choreographed prose of the predictable guide books and superficial brochures or sites, but anyone who knows his or her bush onions knows that storms and rain bring an elixir to the plains which is not far short of witchcraft.
In a matter of days the grazers’ heads are down feeding, not surveying the powder blue sky for any suspicion of clouds. The dust has vanished, the green carpets providing rampant hunting grounds for the invigorated hunters. Yes it rained a bit more than normal for an hour last week , but after the rains comes the sun. Utter magic.
