On Safari in Kenya
On Safari in Kenya
Photographing wildlife in the Mara and Amboseli
lions, leopard, giraffe, buffalo, and one last super tusker.
The Lion's Roar
I wake in darkness.
The canvas shifts in the wind. Something calls out across the Mara — deep, close, certain.
A lion.
Then hyenas. Jackals.
For a moment, I don't know where I am. Then I do.
Kenya. On safari!
I lie still and try to get back to sleep. The anticipation makes it difficult.
Kijani | Warrior
Africa’s Untamed Soul, Captured in Art
Before First Light
Coffee comes first. Always.
Fresh beans from South Africa. AeroPress. A ritual I won't compromise on, even here.
Jeans, T-shirt, fleece. Two fleeces always — one for cold mornings in the vehicle, one for evenings by the fire.
Travel mug in hand, I go to meet my clients. Today, their photography safari begins.
Eye to Eye
Soul of the Wild, Framed in Art
First Pride
Dawn arrives in soft pink. Our Land Cruiser Troopy bounces across the terrain, and Steve, my driver, calls it the African massage. It gets a laugh every time.
We find lions within the first hour. Five females and a young male, the first suggestion of a mane on his chin.
I hold us at twenty metres. Getting too close changes everything — animals don't perform under pressure; they react. I prefer to wait and let them forget we're there. Natural behaviour is the only behaviour worth photographing.
I watch my client's face as we pull up. I know that expression. The thrill. The slight disbelief. The awareness that you are very close to something that could kill you without particular effort.
My first job is always to calm people down. Steady hand, calm mind. A few deep breaths — and then the shutters start.
Camelopard
Africa’s Beauty, Unveiled in Art
The Giraffes
We rounded a corner, and I saw the acacia I know well — soft morning light, the last of the storm clouds still hanging overhead. Then movement in the long grass beyond it.
Tall shapes. Unhurried.
Giraffe.
Five Masai giraffes, still kilometres out but heading exactly where I expected. I positioned the vehicle and told my client to keep a second camera ready with a wider lens. I had two compositions in mind.
Twenty years of photographing African wildlife. You stop guessing and start reading.
I knew the lead giraffe would pause and assess us. What I hadn't anticipated was the near-perfect symmetry of the others continuing their stride behind her — slow, graceful, unbothered.
My client exhaled. So did I.
Serendipity
Africa’s Wilderness, Captured in Light
Breakfast Under the Acacia
My stomach rumbled at exactly the right moment.
Steve and I set up a table under the tree — coffee, croissants, muffins, cheeses, cold meats. We ate in the open Mara, nobody speaking much.
There's not a lot to say when everything around you looks like that.
Widow makers
Africa’s Untamed Soul, Captured in Art
The Buffalo
They rose from the grass like something older than intention. Dark. Heavy. Certain.
The herd watched us without urgency — not curiosity, not fear—just the calculation of animals that have been in enough trouble to know what trouble looks like.
The old bulls stood slightly apart. They've seen too much to be surprised by a vehicle.
We kept our distance. Not from fear, exactly. But respect, definitely.
Widow Maker
Africa’s Wild Spirit, Brought to Life
Leopard, Cheetah, the Big Five
The days accumulated into sequences of encounters. A leopard in the fever trees, draped across a branch, watching us with total indifference. Cheetah on the open plain — Ruka and Rafiki, the brothers, scanning the grass with that permanent alertness only cheetahs carry. Rhino. More buffalo. One morning, we ticked the entire Big Five before breakfast.
But the highlight was still to come.
Fever Tree Leopard | Limited Edition
Africa’s Beauty, Unveiled in Art
Ruka & Rafiki
Africa’s Essence, Revealed in Every Detail
A Morning with Craig
The highlight came in Amboseli.
We spent an entire morning with Craig — one of the last super tuskers in East Africa. His tusks swept forward and outward, worn smooth by time, their tips almost grazing the ground as he walked. Behind him, Kilimanjaro rose through the morning haze — white, vast, indifferent to everything below it.
He moved without urgency. At fifty-four, nothing in that landscape had much authority over him.
My clients were silent. I kept shooting and tried not to think too hard about what I was witnessing — because thinking too hard about it tends to make your hands unsteady.
Craig died on 3 January 2026, in Amboseli. There are very few super tuskers left. There will be fewer still. That morning beneath Kilimanjaro — the light, the silence, the sheer implausible scale of him — is not something I expect to witness again.
This photograph is not a composition. It is evidence. A record of an animal that will not come again.
Craig | Super Tusker
Africa’s Legacy, Etched in Prints
Fine Art Prints from Kenya
Every image from this journey is available as a limited edition archival fine art print.
Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Photo Rag — 100% cotton, archival matte. Or presented as acrylic glass with a slimline aluminium frame, or canvas on a solid wood stretcher. Each piece is made to hold detail, depth, and presence at the largest scale the subject demands.
Available in centimetres and inches. Free worldwide shipping.
