Male Grant’s gazelles have long, elegant horns, which can reach up to 32 inches. These ridged horns are used in ritualized combat with other males, locking and twisting in displays of strength to win mating rights. Unlike some antelopes, both sexes have horns, but the male’s are noticeably thicker, longer, and more deeply curved. The horns not only serve as weapons but also as visual signals of dominance and maturity. We primarily see the Grant’s gazelles in Samburu National Reserve in the north of Kenya, whereas the smaller Thomson’s gazelles are much more common in the Masai Mara in the south. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 560, f/5.6 at 1/800th of a second.

The eastern yellow-billed hornbill is a striking sight in flight, with its broad, rounded wings and long tail feathers fanning out as it moves from tree to tree. Its flight is typically short and swooping, with bursts of flapping followed by glides, giving it a bouncing motion through the air. When it takes off, you can often hear the flap of its wings and catch a flash of its black-and-white plumage and oversized yellow bill cutting through the sky. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 1250, f/5.6 at 1/2000th of a second.

When hippos open their mouths wide and lift their heads skyward, they’re not yawning, they’re showing off in a territorial or dominance display. This dramatic gape, which can stretch over 150 degrees, is meant to intimidate rivals and signal strength without the need for a fight. Males use it especially often to defend their stretch of river or impress females, and the impressive size of their jaws and tusks makes the message loud and clear. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 4000, f/5.6 at 1/400th of a second.

It’s good to have a goal while on safari, but at the same time, always be ready for the unexpected. We had been searching high and low for leopards while in Kenya’s Samburu National Reserve. On this particular day we weren’t successful in that pursuit, but it’s all the other creatures we encountered along the way that made this, and every game drive, unique and special. This is a suburb starling, one of the most common birds we see in east Africa. But always great to capture one in flight showing off those iridescent blue wings and orange belly (mostly obscured on the downstroke). Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 1800, f/5.6 at 1/2000th of a second.

I’m in the process of changing up my website and adding additional subdomains, but still a work in progress. All that is to say that I hope this post goes through. It might not. Or you might get multiple notifications. Who knows. What I do know is that I was very close to this zebra. With those large eyes placed on either side of the head, zebras have a wide field of vision (almost 350 degrees) which helps detect predators from nearly all directions. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 200, f/5.6 at 1/640th of a second.

I had to get low for this one. In fact, I wanted to get even lower to place the secretary bird’s head further into the sun, but well… the ground got in the way. Secretary birds are large, long-legged birds of prey native to sub-Saharan Africa, known for hunting snakes and insects on foot. We see them every now and again in the early morning perched high in acacia trees, warming themselves in the sun before descending to the ground to begin their day of stalking. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 72, f/5.6 at 1/2000th of a second.

In Kenya’s Samburu National Reserve, cheetahs often climb termite mounds to gain a better vantage point over the landscape. This serves two purposes — it helps them scan for prey like gazelles and dik-diks, while also allowing them to keep an eye out for potential threats like lions or hyenas. They’ll also use termite mounds to rest or mark territory with scent, and we’ve even seen cubs playing king of the hill a few times. We had high hopes that this guy was getting into hunt mode, but not to be. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 450, f/5.6 at 1/2000th of a second.

Our guide got really excited when we spotted this yellow-winged bat first thing in the morning, even before we set out on our drive. That tells me they don’t see them often. It’s one of Africa’s most visually interesting and unusual bats, easily recognized by its large, leaf-shaped ears and yellow or orange coloring on its wings and limbs. Unlike most bats, it’s often seen perched upright on branches during the day, resembling a leaf or flower to avoid detection. It’s a member of the false vampire bat family, but it feeds mainly on insects, using its excellent hearing to hunt in open woodland and savanna habitats. I was shooting at a very high ISO given the lack of light, but the pre-dawn sky, just starting to show color, created an interesting juxtaposition with those yellow wings.Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 12800, f/5.6 at 1/500th of a second.

I usually post a frog on my little sister Mo’s birthday. She’s a big fan. But seeing as there were no frogs to be had on our recent trip to Kenya and Uganda, here’s the next best thing. She’s also a big fan of cats. We were lucky to see this Africa wildcat for a brief moment before it disappeared into the scrubland of Samburu National Reserve. These guys are quite obviously ancestors of domestic cats, and they look so much like house cats that they’re often overlooked in the wild. With excellent night vision and stealth, they hunt small rodents and birds. They were likely first domesticated around 9,000 years ago in the Fertile Crescent of the Middle East, when they began living near early human settlements, and they’ve hardly changed since. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 800, f/5.6 at 1/2000th of a second.

Kudu are widespread in eastern and southern Africa, but sparsely populated in their range and difficult to see. I’ve only seen them in Botswana so it was very exciting to observe a small herd in Kenya last month. It was mid-day and the light and setting were tough, but I did my best. Their horns (males only) are among the most striking in the animal kingdom, spiraling up to three full twists and reaching lengths of over 70 inches. But when I think of kudu, I think of Ernest Hemingway, who wrote of them often. During his first African safari, he was obsessed with tracking and shooting a greater kudu, so much so that he famously passed up other trophy opportunities while in pursuit of the elusive, “spiral-horned antelope.” This obsession appears in his nonfiction book Green Hills of Africa, where he writes at length about the kudu’s beauty, grace, and difficulty to hunt. He refers to the greater kudu as a near-mythical creature, calling it “the most beautiful animal” and describing the pursuit as a kind of noble, poetic quest. He often tied the hunt for kudu to deeper themes of masculinity, failure, and artistic struggle. There’s another story that after several failed attempts and days of tracking, Hemingway finally shot a kudu, only to feel a strange mix of pride and sadness, a recurring emotional undercurrent in his reflections on hunting. The kudu became part of his personal mythology, standing as a representation of the ultimate challenge in the African wild. And yes, I was an English literature major in college and read a lot of Hemingway, perhaps sparking the desire to one day make it to Africa. Nikon Z8 with Nikkor 500mm PF lens, ISO 560, f/6.3 at 1/800th of a second.