The horizon lays bare under the harsh midday sun. Broken Mopane trunks dot the landscape as evidence of the larger locals who call the area home.
Worn paths cross the ground. They have been dug deep into the soil showing where giants have been.
Occasionally a hornbill lopes on by, his hopeless flapping makes it seem like he is struggling under his own weight. The wings lift up only to drop him the second he tries to glide.
The baking days heat soon draws a little extra movement and dots appear amongst the scattered stumps.
Their intent is clear as the stumps morph into mountains on the landscape, leaving a blazing trail of dust in their wake.
These shuffling legs add to the deep trails that litter the ground.
With their forward movement comes the raising of their trunks. Eagerly they sniff the air, they know something is new.
The scent of humans fill their nostrils and their trunks drop to drive them on.
Across the waterhole the Elephants can sense we are near but it is not our presence that puts doubt in their minds. These giants are daily visitors and know we mean no harm.
It is actually my camera that sits on the ground beside their path that draws their special interest.
Tucked in by a tree it is a new addition that they are weary about. Their March slows briefly until the urge to drink overwhelms their questions and then they push on. A wider berth is given as rocking heads and waging tails spur the elephants on for the last few meters of the dusty path straight to the waterholes side.
No longer do they worry about the camera, their only true worry is getting a fresh drink.
They stay until well after dark leaving me to pose the question, how to get my camera back!