A PICNIC WITH RHINO

"The anti-poaching unit have our coordinates. The champagne is chilled. I've packed in your wedding dress. The best man has the picnic basket. You have your camera. Let's go!"

"Are you sure that pride of lion has moved out of the river bed?" I asked of my highly skilled and experienced trails officer husband.

"Are you really going to ask me that question with your camera in hand?" He smiled knowingly. He was right to be confident. He was head hunted by many wild life reserves because of his incredible gift out in the African wilds. With people's lives entrusted in his care, his incredible sixth sense in the bush was heightened. In all the years we had known one another I trusted my life, quite literally on a daily basis, in his hands. There is something other-worldly about walking in the territory of these incredible creatures. We chose to capture the memories of our marriage out in the iMfolozi Game Reserve where we lived and worked.

"Besides I have enough tranquilizer darts on me to give every big cat a long snooze in happy hunting ground. Trust me. Let's go!"

We set off for the most unforgettable photo shoot of my life. It was the end of a long weekend of wedding festivities and all the guests had gone home. It was sunrise. We watched the rhino mothers and babies coming to drink at the almost dry riverbed. They were cautious at first. Aware of something unusual. But being unable to see or smell us they soon relaxed. One rule about visiting the bush is: leave no trace. Which means everything - and I mean everything - that you carry in; you carry out. On a tiny camp stove we brewed fresh coffee. While we watched the little rhino playing we sipped coffee and nibbled on wedding cake.

Once the family of 8 rhino had left to their foraging ground, my tall groom and his rifle went scouting. He returned quietly and with great excitement. Half a kilometre up river were two white rhino blissfully nibbling. And, no, there were no lion. Just day-old spoor. It was our photo opportunity. I kicked off my hiking boots, hitched up my wedding dress and we tiptoed into the chilly waters. The best man and his wife followed silently with my camera. We didn't talk as we slowly made our way up the riverbed.

Nearly two decades later I remember that day as if it were yesterday. My first husband moved, breathed and lived as any other creature out in the wild. He understood it. And I was always awed that in his care the wonderful creatures were seldom aware we had been. And gone. With only photos as evidence. In the years he worked in the Reserve many came internationally for the experience of a trail in the bush. Once you have spent a few days hiking where the elephant, cheetah, giraffe, buffalo, hyena, rhino - and yes, lion live, you can never be the same again. His passion was their preservation. His death left the animals bereft without knowing why.

When we returned to our picnic spot, we lit the little camp stove. The groom and best man fried boerewors, eggs, onion, mushroom. We sliced fresh bread and opened a variety of jams and cheeses. We popped the champagne and poured fresh orange juice. Then we filled our plates and savoured the silence of the bush. It is humbling to know that you are so tiny in such a wild expanse of bush, teeming with wonderful life. We celebrated our marriage. But also; we celebrated their life.