In January, the forest was lush, green and overgrown. Mornings were snappy, with a cool wetness in the air. The light dappled through, casting lacy shadows all over. Venture out early enough and a mysterious fog clung close to the ground, making every broody and eerie. You just felt and knew it was winter.
Now, just three months on, nearing the peak of summer, it’s a scene from a different chapter.
A mess of largely naked trees, woody browns, earthy tones, dry and open. Everything sparse and spaced out, nowhere to hide. Punishing heat and all signs of awaiting a period of restoration to come.
In the midst of the vastly dry, waning cycle of the life in the forest, these Amaltas are the late bloomers. Showing up unannounced, late to the party, and making themselves seen. Bursts of yellow here and there, taking you by surprise, giving you that much needed respite.
And then, the icing on the cake. In the midst of this largely barren landscape, we spotted an elephant.