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ONE The Elephant Pools Making Rainfall Effective ‘The scene which met my eyes the next morning is beyond ‘my power to describe. Game, game everywhere, as far as the eye could see—all on the move, grazing. The game did not “appear to be moving; the impression received was that the earth was doing so, carrying the game with it—they were in such vast numbers... bundreds of thousands of blesbok, springbok, wildebeest, and many others were all around us ‘George Mossop, southern Africa, 1860s WATER HAS REAPPEARED IN A REMOTE CORNER OF rural Zimbabwe, some ten minutes of scarcely drivable dirt road off the Victoria Falls-Bulawayo road and into the bush. ‘This new water has replenished the Dimbangombe River, which now extends a full kilometer farther upstream than anyone, including the chiefs and elders of the five local tribes, can remember. Even now, in September, the parched heart of the dry season with the hope of rain still a good two months away, there's a steady flow where the Dimban- gombe now meets the slightly larger Titsingombe River. This revived ‘6 WATER IN PLAIN SIGHT juncture is marked by a large winterthorn tree, a tree treasured in these parts because, unlike most trees, it holds on to its green leaves through the dry months, only to drop them once it rains Upriver from this spot a small, marshy meadow—vlein the Afrikaans language—has a clear film of water coursing over the mud. Allan Savory, ‘who founded the organization that presides over this land, the Africa Cen- tre for Holistic Management, says this is thanks to the new water. Atnearly cighty, Savory is trim and spindle-legged in timeless bush garb: khaki shorts; a loose, buttoned cotton shirt; a felt hat with a shady brim. IFit’s in the heat of the day—from about noon to three, a stretch I come to think of as ‘the stupid hours” since the heat leaves me barely able to think—he'll be ‘wearing shoes, perhaps a thin-soled kudu-skin pair with holes at the toe, ora tawny-shaded pair of Crocs; otherwise, not. He prefers to go barefoot. ‘This way every step he takes is telling him something about the state of the land: the temperature of the soil, its cover, whether or not it's compacted, “This is the giraffes’ favorite area,” he says. It's quiet with no animals in sight, but I imagine a herd of giraffes ambling by this very spot: their Jong, lanky necks pitched at an angle; shoulder muscles rippling as, sud- denly and in a single unit, they break into a run. Savory scans the vista with the intentness of someone attuned to the slightest variation in plant type or the recent presence of antelope, no matter how fleet-footed. “Ten years ago we would not have seen water here into September,” he tells me and my husband, Tony Eprile ‘We get back in the 4 x 4 and ramble along the dusty road to a clear ing. We walk to where the river is running clean and silvery over the rocks. A red dragonfly skims by. "This part of the river goes dry after the rainy season, around April, then in July, after the coldest time of yeas, it starts to flow again,” Savory says. “A few years back, after July the water began returning more strongly and staying longer into the eight-month- long dry season. This year, for the first time, it didn't go dry at all.” ‘This area is home to numerous water-loving species, he says, includ ing Affican fish eagle, catfish, turtles and otters, "though we havent seen THE ELEPHANT POOLS 7 them in a while, We do have a croc in here, but he may not be here now. Its an cleven-foot croc with a slightly damaged jaw. One year he spent the dry season in an abandoned porcupine den.” Savory points out the track of a warthog, with its distinct two toes, in the dirt along the bank. Above us, weaverbird nests dangle from the trees. The air is still but for the chattering of birds and the soft rustle of grasses as we brush against them. A wave of well-being sweeps over ime: this is the sound of Africa, a layering of quict and song that fills up the space in a way that somehow makes the sky feel that much more immense. Tony spent his childhood in South Africa, so my nostalgia for this environment comes naturally—that is, by marriage. The first time he brought me to South Aftica’s famed Kruger National Park, he insisted we get up early so we could sit in the stillness and simply listen to the sounds. ‘A bird darts past too quickly for me to note its shape and color. “That's a striped kingfisher,” Savory says. "T caught one in the car on the way to fetch you.” ‘We move quietly and in single file a few yards away from the river in search of more signs of new water: Savory, then me, then Tony with hhis camera, striding into the grasses as if we're on a kind of water safari ‘We pause, and where we stand the ground is moist and all the plants are green. These are sedges, which favor moisture; they look like grass but grow in bunches, sprays of slender leaves spreading outward from the base. Savory shows us that reeds, whose existence virtually defines wetlands, are now established as well. “I never dreamt of having water here,"he says. "We have Egyptian geese all year. Look, you can see water lilies—this is two months until the rain begins and there's still water. IF this had been a wet year we could have explained it. But we've had seven years of average or below-average rainfall.” Finally Savory takes us to the elephant pool, where the new water has made the biggest change in the landscape. It doesnt look like much. In fact, the spot looks trashed—like, well, a gang of wild elephants had

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