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The Dawn Singers |
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The following story is something I wrote for a travel writing competition in BBC Wildlife magazine. It was drawn from events that happened whilst I was in was in the Amazon basin in Bolivia. Needless to say, I didn't even get a sniff at the prize (a safari in Namibia, seeing as you ask). Such is life. So here you have it, and as an added bonus, you get to see some of the pictures I took whilst there as well, which is more than BBC Wildlife got from me (as if they haven't already got tons of capybaras and caimans in their photo library already!). Hope ya like it! |
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| The song crept, unnoticed at first, into my dream. Ghostlike, it floated gently upwards, nudging me towards consciousness. The previous morning the same cacophony had jolted me awake. They were much closer then, filling the whole world with their deafening croaks as if a tribe of demonic bullfrogs surrounded me. Terrified, I sat bolt upright peering into the darkness. I went through the list of possible causes. In the rainforest at night there were plenty that came to mind, none of them pleasant. Whatever was responsible, it must have been virtually on top of me. |
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| Then I realised. Of course, I should have known! My fear gone, I laid back, closed my eyes and listened. They carried on until the first rays of morning light pierced the canopy, giving form to the shadows around me. Darkness gave way to colours, and with the birth of substance the song died, banished from the world as if fearful of the very light its melody foretold. |
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I had decided that this morning I would go in search of my singers, but I would have to move fast. The hymn must have been going on for half an hour or more before I finally woke and they were obviously some distance away. Fumbling out of the mosquito net and into my clothes, carefully checking every item for any unwelcome creature that may have crawled into them during the night, I set off into the trees. |
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| The air was fresh, not yet weighed down by the heat, humidity and parasites that would arrive with the sunrise. This pleasure alone was worth the early rise. I followed the song through the forest, guided only by instinct and hearing. In the wilderness it was easy to detach myself from the limitations of human perception, slipping into a more primal awareness. The roots and vines which conspired to make me stumble during daylight were somehow effortlessly avoided as I hurried to my rendezvous. |
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| In the canopy birds were stirring, adding to the dawn chorus with their screeches and whistles. Overhead a gargantuan winged form, silhouetted black against the charcoal sky, crashed through the leaves. A heron, perhaps, or hoatzin? Who knows, in this timeless place maybe even archaeopteryx survives. |
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Then the song ended. The birds continued calling, but my singers were done, the serenade finished. Still I continued my search. Somehow I felt that I would find them, whether they chose to guide me or not. I continued in the direction from which I last heard them, knowing I was drawing close. |
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| And suddenly, a noise. Something moving through the branches. Two dark figures leapt from a tree directly in front of me and were away. Was that it? Had I missed them? It didn't really matter. I had caught a glimpse. Right here and now, that was enough. Breathing in deeply, I inhaled the aroma of the forest. The damp leaf litter underfoot, orchids growing on the canopy branches, the sweet, clean perfume of a new day. Being out here alone, almost blind, brought an overwhelming sensation of peace. Experiencing and understanding senses rarely used in the human world was a gift that the singers, in calling me here, had laid at my feet. How could I be disappointed at such a rare treasure? |
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Meditating, I walked on. The curtain of trees broke and I found myself in a small clearing. The veil of darkness was lifted and with it I was human again. The smells and sounds became distant, blurred and indecipherable once more. |
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| Near the edge of the clearing stood a small, solitary palm, just a few feet high. Its fronds reached out, almost touching the trees as if begging to join them. Something was squatting in the crown of the palm. I squinted, trying to distinguish shape from shape in the dim light. I didn't dare breath, nor move a muscle. The creature shifted, then rose. There it was, my singer! I couldn't believe my luck. One of them had been left behind, perhaps too distracted by some game to notice that its family had moved on. It made its way to the edge of the trunk, then effortlessly climbed along one of the palm fronds toward the main body of the forest, grasping the central stem with hands and feet, tail stretched out behind for balance. Halfway along it stopped and turned its head in my direction and our eyes met. It may have been only seconds, less even, but for me an eternity passed before the howler monkey broke our silent exchange. Turning back to face the direction its troop had taken, it leapt into the trees and disappeared, leaving me with one final glimpse into its alien world before dawn broke the spell of the forest for good. |
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home |
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