Almost every morning last week was blessed by a coruscating sunrise, a blazing mid-morning with the kind of light nature lovers and photographers fantasize about.
By mid afternoon a few innocuous cumulae limp across the now powder blue sky, seemingly innocent low meteorological cards but actually sinister portents to the angry picture ones to follow.
By tea-time, the whole sky is a livid canvas, towering spiteful thunderheads loaded with hefty deposits striated by pitchforks of lighting.
If you have not seen this Jekyll and Hyde show, you have not experienced the Mara properly. These are the plains at their best and the plains and, leavened by such voluminous refreshments, are now uncut emerald in colour.
Any Maraholic will take these dramatic patterns over long, slow sunny afternoons any time. The ruminants, and there are thousands across all Conservancies are going nowhere.They love this weather as much as the lucky guests in camp and will be here for months.
Mara Camp got wet, Bush got more than anyone and Valley had hail at sun downers. There is never a dull sky in the Mara, ever, but when the wet gold falls it means bounty for all.
Any Maraholic will take these dramatic patterns over long, slow sunny afternoons any time. The ruminants, and there are thousands across all Conservancies are going nowhere.They love this weather as much as the lucky guests in camp and will be here for months.
Mara Camp got wet, Bush got more than anyone and Valley had hail at sun downers. There is never a dull sky in the Mara, ever, but when the wet gold falls it means bounty for all.
