Pure Elephant Joy: A Powerful Lesson for Us All

Field Notes from Kenya #6

Baby elephant dancing her way across the Exaso Ng’iro River

But perhaps the most important lesson I learned is that there are no walls between humans and the elephants except those we put up ourselves, and that until we allow not only elephants, but all living creatures their place in the sun, we can never be whole ourselves.

~Lawrence Anthony, The Elephant Whisperer: My Life with the Herd in the African Wild

We were camped beside the Ewaso Ng’iro River in the Samburu National Reserve. The bewitching hour had arrived and

Elizabeth Loker

and I set out to drive alongside the river and watch for animals coming down for water. We wound slowly through the bush, the Land Rover bouncing up and down on the rutted red dirt road. The early evening light cast its dreamy golden glow over everything. Before long, we spied an elephant in the bush, then a giraffe, later a couple antelope. We stopped to admire the giraffe and his elegant neck and then slow-rolled by.

The path wound back towards to the river. Immediately in front of us was a big-daddy elephant, walking steadily to the water. He stopped to eat. We stopped the vehicle and watched quietly as he swung his magnificent truck into the grass, twirled a clump of grass like spaghetti on a fork, wholesale ripped it out, flicked it into his mouth, and swung back for more. After eating a while, he moved closer to the riverbank. Elizabeth whispered Look! Look! The massive creature was bending down on his front knees to slide down the cut bank to the floodplain in an act that while simple, filled me with awe.

We drove on a short while and then we saw them: across the river, a herd of elephants was emerging from the bush. One and two at a time—enormous males, several pair of mommas and babies. As they appeared, they stopped and waited, gathering the whole troop at water’s edge. Eventually there were a dozen and en masse they began walking across the floodplain and into the river, moving in a chain towards us.

Then, the most amazing thing happened. One of the babies lied down in the water. Then another. And a third. Initially I thought the first may have fallen but quickly realized it was intentional—they were taking a bath. And a bath they took! At first, they were simply submerged, but soon one, then the other, then the third rolled onto its side. The antics started. They began blowing bubbles. They rolled around, legs flailing in the air. They pig piled. They threw themselves at each other. Trunks and legs were everywhere. One even rolled onto her back a few times. It was nothing short of pure elephant joy—toddlers pig piling in a bathtub.

They carried on and on as most of the herd passed over to the other side. A few adults paused to watch over the young. They continued to carry on. Elizabeth said: Wait for the bugling. We waited. They continued to frolic. We waited. The elephants were reaching the nearby bank. Still the toddlers splashed. We waited. Finally, it came—the bugle. The adult had had enough—a loud blast signaling: Get up! Let’s go! More dawdling. Eventually the babies pulled themselves together, stood up, shook off, and started to walk. Moments later, they threw themselves in the river again. We laughed and watched and laughed. It was stupendous. Finally, finally, they got up and walked to rejoin the herd.

Words don’t do this experience justice, so rather than write, I’m sharing a video clip of just some part of it. Though it’s a bit long (8 minutes), I invite you to watch it in its entirely.

Still, this was not the end of it. As I watched the last baby, she began running and frolicking, ears flapping, dancing her way across the river. I was grinning from ear-to-ear, my whole being filled with sympathetic joy. It’s an experience that will be permanently etched in my heart.

The encounter has had me reflecting on the sentience of our more-than-human friends with mixed emotions—pure joy and awe tempered by grief for what we’re doing to the planet I love so much. How do we not see?

Wishing you sympathetic joy.

xo Wendy