SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL

hippos. Study the ground itself: those tiny conical pits are traps set by tiny predatory insect larvae called ant-lions, which gobble up any ants that tumble in; that silk-lined tunnel is the burrow of a lurking baboon spider.

Look closer, and you’ll soon find the African bush comprises multiple worlds in miniature. A termite mound is one: hold your hand over a vent and you’ll feel the warm air rising from the insects’ miraculous air-conditioning system; step back and you might spy a mongoose or monitor lizard emerge. A waterhole is another: those dollops of candyfloss stuck to overhanging tree-trunks are the nests of a foam-nest tree-frog, ready to drop their hatchling tadpoles; that tree stump polished to gleaming marble smoothness is a scratching post used by generations of itchy warthogs.

Every sense plays its part. Your ears might pick out the scolding alarm call of a bush-squirrel – suggesting, perhaps, a snake nearby. Your nose will detect the heady aroma of wild jasmine or the musky odour of a waterbuck’s bedding spot. Even your taste buds get involved: try the sweet-andsour tartness of a ripe marula fruit – irresistible to elephants.

And, in my experience, it’s often when you lose yourself in the minutiae that the unexpected occurs: the white rhino that emerged from a thicket while I was admiring the winged aerodynamics of a bushwillow seedpod; the wild dogs that trotted past as I watched sword-tail butterflies sipping mineral salts. So do sweat the small stuff. Don’t worry, you won’t miss the headliners, but you’ll understand a whole lot more about the world in which they live.

Mike Unwin

‘Hold your hand over a vent and you’ll feel the warm air rising’: a family of dwarf mongooses hang out in a termite mound