I did my best yesterday to haul myself out of a deep sense of grief. I felt lost. I missed being with my children and grandchildren on this holiday weekend. I could not shift it. There was grief in my body, in the news, in the atmosphere. It would not go away.

Uncertainty makes us nervous. The adjectives “unprecedented,” “uncharted,” and “uncertain” are clichés in the Time of Corona. Daily life on the savannah of the Maasai Mara is a drama that lives every minute in “uncertain time.” Every morning is a triumph of the survival of a species and a potential meal for another.

The sense that the endless procession of elephants was for my personal growth? I balked at the thought—to claim such sacred moment for myself felt egotistical. Yet that’s how it felt. … My time in Amboseli continues to speak to me, like a dream that is so big that it refuses to let me forget and slip back into unconsciousness.

I know stories of elephants mourning.  I know they visit the bones of their family members where they have died.  I’ve seen the skulls, been told how the elephants touch them, smell them with their trunks. I’ve heard about elephant mothers that stand by a baby’s corpse for days.  I’ve heard how elephants will try to lift up a recently dead family member, how they call out, trumpet, and shuffle around the body.

I was awestruck – these elephants were HUGE. We were so CLOSE! “I’ll see if I can get closer,” said Julius. “Closer?!” the danger signal in my brain squeaked, as Julius navigated through the bushes to the other side of the tree revealing Tim in full view. The huge bulls gazed at us, nonplussed by the intrusion, eventually sauntering out into the open to graze.

The Big Tusker Tim is dead. I am shocked and heartbroken. On January 7th, I flew to Amboseli following my dream of seeing the Big Tuskers of Amboseli, Kenya’s largest elephants. Images of Tim, a massive elephant of 6+ tons, a global celebrity and icon for wildlife protection, fueled my imagination…

Watching the sun rise on the Maasai Mara fuels attention and astonishment. Seeing Africa’s iconic lions in their natural setting is like stepping through the TV screen into the magic of Africa. Even after a few years of game drives in Kenya, being in the midst of African wildlife still feels like a pinch me moment.