A Rare Find

Photographed by Matilda

It seems strange that a bird of between 104 and 110 cm tall and with a wingspan of up to 200 cm can perch in a tree! I suppose it helps that they weigh not more than 4 kg. They are also the only cranes able to do this because of a long hind toe that allows them to grasp.

All this I gleaned from the internet after having had the pleasure of the company of a pair of Grey Crowned Crane - Balearica regulorum regulorum (South African) and also called Mahems because of the sound they make- coming to roost in a tree close to our cottage in Wakkerstroom every evening.

I also learned that the "crowned crane is the most primitive of the living Gruidae. Primitive species of crowned cranes date back in the fossil record to the Eocene period."  http://www.savingcranes.org/grey-crowned-crane.html

The photo I took was the closest I could get to them and it doesn't do them justice at all. But I knew they came calling for a reason when I first saw them coming in from the west, with the sun setting behind them, throwing their profiles into a sharp silhouette against the apricot sky.

A while ago George quoted Leonard Cohen in his post, The armour against wonder, and I touched on synchronicity following that, in the post, A bird on my windowsill.

It has long been my belief that birds form an integral part of the "vocabulary" of the unique language God and I share. They are multi-layered parables that I often need years to decipher and never seem to fathom completely. So I have started to pay close attention to birds "coming to converse on my windowsill" to use Cohen's beautiful image again.

I can (and will soon) also share tales about sunbirds which seem to be God's messengers of choice to convey hope and a promise of deliverance where I am concerned, but I saw none in Wakkerstroom. This time it was the Mahems.

What were they saying? I offer my interpretation tentatively, knowing it may seem far fetched or mere wishful thinking combined with an over-active imagination. I am more than prepared to hear your thoughts on this.

The slogan used in marketing Wakkerstroom as a prime tourist attraction, states: Wakkerstroom, A Rare Find.  

The Mahems are just that. A rare find in that only nine to eleven pairs are said to nest there each summer (http://www.wakkerstroom.co.za/endangered-wildlife-trust/)

It is because of them that the wetlands of Wakkerstroom were given the distinction of being classified important, according to Glenn Ramke, a field officer of the Endangered Wildlife Trust who has been monitoring the cranes for the past eighteen + years.

The whole region is hailed as a birding paradise, with enthusiasts visiting from all over the world.

So there we were, on what we envisaged to be a couple of days of rest in a refreshingly unfamiliar place, and being stunned out of our wits by the pristine beauty, the serenity and the incredible suitability of Wakkerstroom as a location for The Restory, the retreat centre we envisage.

We sat outside, talking about the pros and cons while the light failed and the Mahems faded from sight into darkness;

Cons: -the terrible state of the roads coming up from Gauteng,
- the long and cold winters we've been told of,
- the remoteness,
- our lack of funds.

Pros: -Everything about the area quietly whispers: "This is it." The wetlands, grasslands, the tiny village with only basic amenities, the onus on conservation of heritage and nature visible everywhere, the lack of fences, gates, burglar proofing and alarm systems.

Here the cornerstones of our philosophy of life; silence, creativity and simplicity don't jut out like they seem to do in our current lives in Gauteng. Here, they are joined seamlessly into the fibre of the land.

We know that we form part of what seems to be a rare breed. Not many share our beliefs and convictions. If a status should be assigned to a way of life, ours would most probably be classified as "Vulnerable" like the Mahems'.

We asked ourselves: Is it presumptuous/unrealistic/idealistic to trust that people will come to Wakkerstroom because of what we have to offer?

A full moon started rising. The Mahems broke out in a startling duet. It sounded at once primal and very much alive. Far off in the distance we could  make out the faint reply of their fellows.

Will you hear us calling you?

Artwork by Ian van Zyl, photographed by Matilda at De Oude Stasie in Wakkerstroom.

Matilda