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 shadows contrast with the whiteness of her throne and her elbow rests on the crest of the ageing and flaking cervical vertebra of an ele who died a long time 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 an elephant has stood here and touched these very bones with the tips of their trunk, even moved them, though never far. Hyena have chanced a theft but deferred to reason and also left them not too far away, though they often gnaw at the raw calcium they provide.

These bones lie at my front door.  

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