A Mopane Grove Moment

A Mopane Grove mongoose lies in the shadow of the curved arm of a Candelabra Euphorbia, the scene dappled in sunlight and rustic hues. The shadow contrasts with the whiteness of her throne and her elbow rests on the crest of the aging and flaking cervical vertebra of an ele who died long ago. She wears the latest in mongoose fashion accessories, a fake canine, looking every bit the false sabre-tooth that her temperament may show her to be.

There have been times that elephant have stood here and touched these very bones with the tips of their trunks, even moved them, though never far. Hyena have chanced a theft but deferred to reason and also left them not too far away, though often gnawing at the raw calcium they present.

These bones lie at my front door.  

They are my memorial to elephants I have known, loved and lost.