The smaller things

It might be your first, second, even your third visit to one of our national parks, but somehow it always ends up as a mad scramble to find the Big Five. Lion and leopard or bust! Followed by elephant, rhino and buffalo, to be ticked off on the gameviewing list. You rush from one traffic jam to the next, and in the process you miss out on the Small Five Thousand: a golden-tailed woodpecker picking at ants on a mopane tree; a flap-necked chameleon stalking a beetle; a family of warthogs having a dust bath.

In order to appreciate the “lesser” things, you have to spend enough time in a place to get the “must-see” things out of your system. I realised this recently when I spent a few days in the West Coast National Park (p 34), probably because there’s no trace of the Big Five there. Afterwards, as I was writing the story, I reflected on what I would remember about my visit in years to come. The first thing would be an early morning cycle through the fynbos along a jeep track. A sound up ahead caught my attention, and then a herd of enormous eland materialised out of the mist. I stopped and watched as they slowly moved through the bush.

The second thing is sitting on the stoep of our self-catering cottage near Churchhaven and looking out over the Langebaan Lagoon. We weren’t the only ones living in the house – a rock kestrel had made a home under the eaves long before we arrived. I would steal a glance at him, he’d eyeball me back and together we’d watch the day turn to dusk.

And then there was a late-afternoon snooze in a sunny room on a houseboat anchored in Kraalbaai, with a book perched on my chest. I woke up a few times, looked through the big windows at the water, listened to the rhythmic slap of the waves against the hull, then I dozed off again.

It was, without a doubt, the best Sunday afternoon nap of my life. Serenity on a deep, deep level. That’s what I wish for myself, and for you, in 2020 – more time to appreciate the smaller things in life, and serenity. Lots of it!