The temperature is rising in the mid-morning heat of Amboseli Park near the Tanzanian border in southern Kenya. The dry, grey volcanic dust of Amboseli announces each family of elephants as they march in silence towards us. I have never seen so many elephants in one place. I came to see the elephants of Amboseli, and they showed up.

I’m delighted to announce one of my images won the Greenpeace 2020 photo competition. I’m proud my photo is associated with Greenpeace, an organization that works tirelessly to raise awareness about environmental issues and conservation. The contest theme this year was wildlife mothers and offspring.

I know I’m fortunate. I know I am one of the fortunate few to be able to go to these wild places, and meet these extraordinary people, and meet these extraordinary animals. It's a gift and it's very healing for me, it’s very magical for me. My hope is that by sharing my stories I can help build a bridge and let the rest of the world know that these people and these animals and these wild places are out there and we have a responsibility. We have a responsibility to protect them and to speak for them.

Reteti Elephant Sanctuary is the first indigenous community owned and run elephant rescue orphanage in East Africa. It reflects a growing movement in community focused conservation practices where the local people work to protect the wildlife they have co-existed with for hundreds of years.

Elephants at the waterhole! The news on the 2-way radio announced that a herd of elephants was heading towards the water hole at the base of the lodge. Robert, my Samburu guide, looked over his shoulder from the driver’s seat and relayed the news. “Let’s go!” I said eagerly.

Did you know an elephant’s sense of small is four times as strong as a bloodhound’s? They can actually smell water several miles away. This can mean the difference between life and death during a drought. It’s very cool to be sniffed out by an elephant.

Domenic, Joseph, and I were out patrolling the savannah in the morning when we spotted a herd of elephants making their way in a line across the horizon. The Matriarch was at the head of the line with another female following behind, a small calf hugging her haunches. Several other mothers, aunties, and nannies were part of the group plus one large bull elephant.

The elephants raced towards us, sounding loud trumpet blasts. Each orphan made a bee line to one of the keepers who, with one motion, stuffed an elephant sized baby bottle into their mouths. In no time, the bottle was empty, and the baby’s trunk reached out for the second bottle. Amos stepped to the side and motioned me in. I was in Kenya feeding a baby elephant—definitely a pinch-me moment.

The baby elephant flared its ears and shifted its weight back and forth from leg to leg. I was shaken with surprise; it took a minute for my heart to settle. “You’re okay,” I said quietly as I took a breath. “You’ll be okay here. It’s going to be all right. I know you are frightened and wondering where your mum is, where your family is. There are friends here who will take care of you.”

Zebras sport one of nature’s most recognizable patterns. Several African animals have made an impact in the design world, but who can resist the distinctive black and white stripes of the zebra? Just like our fingerprints, every zebra’s pattern is unique. Is the zebra a white horse with black stripes or a black horse with white stripes?

When I met her two years ago, Figlet was a young cub. Now a mature leopard, with a signature bright white tail, she was as beautiful and self-assured as her mother Fig. Nelson revved the wheels and maneuvered the truck so we were directly in Figlet’s path. Undeterred she came straight for us, her eyes focused on some unseen destination.

When I met her two years ago, Figlet was a young cub. Now a mature leopard, with a signature bright white tail, she was as beautiful and self-assured as her mother Fig. Nelson revved the wheels and maneuvered the truck so we were directly in Figlet’s path. Undeterred she came straight for us, her eyes focused on some unseen destination.

Dominic found a tree with remains of a carcass in it, a sure sign a leopard was nearby. A couple of times the radio crackled with news of a sighting. We drove up and down the river corridor, my eyes aching with the effort of trying to separate leaves from leopard spots. Nothing. Not a whisker, not a blink, not a white tail tip. We laughed, imagining the leopard enjoying our antics from the security of his or her secret spot…

They say a leopard’s eyes are blue—this was the day I learned it’s true. Fig is like an alluring siren. There comes a choice point on safari when the action seems to come to a natural close— stay or go? The curve of vehicles that had gathered a respectful distance from Fig’s tree began to break up, heading off to search for other wildlife. We hesitated. Fig is like an alluring siren. Caught in her magnetic appeal, we stayed…

It was still dark, with a faint hint of light on the horizon when the call came in to our guides— leopard sighting out on the savannah under a lone tree. We hastily climbed into the trucks, pulling our hats down around our ears in the chill of the African morning…

Getting a glimpse of a leopard is always a thrill; they are such secretive and exotic cats. When we pulled up along the creek there was a commotion in the bushes—sex in the shrubbery! A few minutes later a gorgeous female leopard strolled out—hello Fig.

I have lots of hope. And when I’m in a natural, wild place, then I remember. I remember that I need to think more consciously. That I need to make more conscious choices. I think we learn more through delight and awe and wonder than we do through lectures about how nasty we are and how stupid we are. So that’s the gate I want to come through.

I couldn’t believe our luck when we discovered a “journey” of giraffes browsing beside the road early in the morning. Two young calves hung out together, simultaneously curious and hesitant about us. They trained their eyes and ears on our vehicles. When the calf turned to look at me, I could see that her ears and nose were still crusted with fluid from her mother’s womb. So young, so new, so beautiful.

My head turned abruptly at sudden action and loud trumpeting at the edge of my peripheral vision. I craned my neck to see what was happening from my cramped position on the floor of the safari vehicle. A family of 7 elephants, trunks and tails held high, were running pell-mell across the savannah. A large matriarch shook her head wildly as she raced towards us in panic…

All sacred journeys require a guide. Three nights, that’s all I had in Amboseli. Three nights, a long weekend really, yet those 3 nights and corresponding days changed me. My time in Amboseli was a spiritual quest, not just a photographic safari. I did not acknowledge that when I booked those 3 nights in January 2020. I only know this now, in hindsight.