Dudu Diaries

Sunlight streams softly over the sides of the valley. On the edge of the Rift, the rains so far have been faithful this year, and every wildflower, grass and tree is in leaf or bud. In a world where drought and frugality are the norm, the abundance of rain brings a sweetness and joy to life as both creatures and plants celebrate and indulge without restraint.

This afternoon we went on an ‘insect safari’ down part of the Rift Valley scarp, through bush and rocky grassland into a patch of forest sheltering at the secluded bottom of the steep slopes.

Everywhere you look there is something going on. Busy bees are buzzing around a myriad different kinds of flowers. Ants march along the ground and up and down twigs and branches. Hoverflies claim their places in the sun, dodging the attentions of the bee-eaters and swifts.

It was late in the afternoon – and in the deliciously warm sunshine, it seemed the perfect afternoon for lovers to lie in the long grass. The insects agreed with this, I think, and were busy engaging in courtship and mating wherever you looked!

The first insects encountered were some large flies ‘Love-bugs’ as they are often called. These are members of the genus Bromophila, and with their striking bright red heart-shaped heads are easy to spot from a distance. Several pairs were busy mating, with the males riding on the females backs as they sat on the leaves of Combretum bushes.

As we clambered further down the slope, through tangles of flowering Aspilia, a metallic form glittered from the yellow petals. On closer inspection it turns out to be a pair of longhorn beetles. Again the male is riding on the female’s back as he copulates with her. She continues feeding on pollen and nectar from the flower while he mates with her. As if she were saying “Well if I have to carry you around, I’d better keep up my strength!”

Half-way down the escarpment, in thick bush with lots of herbs flowering a flash of blue whirrs past. It seems to be in hot pursuit
of something. It zips back and forth before diving into a bower of soft herbs. Closer inspection reveals a mad fluttering as a male Blue butterfly follows a coy female. He flies behind her stroking her with his legs and beating his wings with ardour. Eventually she yields and they settle contentedly among the soft, dark leaves of an Indigofera, which is also where the female will soon deposit her precious eggs.

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, the insects begin to settle down, enjoying the last rays of warmth. Even as the valley draws an indigo blanket over her ridges and hills, activity does not cease, for now the night shift emerges from burrows and curled leaves to begin their search for love…

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Dawn on the plains here is crisp and bright. A tangled sky with the promise of rain greets each day. Sunlight streams softly through the mosaic of clouds above and fresh leaves below. Everywhere life returns and sprouts with abandon. Finally, after months of hot, dry, dusty days, the time to flower, fruit, lay eggs, pollinate, claim territories – basically reproduce in every way imaginable, has come.

In the very first rays of light, just before sunrise, when you can still see your breath, and the torrent of birdsong flows steadily all around, another, fainter, more frantic sound can be heard. A steady, humming, soft, consistent, punctuated now and then by a staccato of pauses. For several days I’ve puzzled to what it is. It is still too cold for even the most diligent of bees to be about. They are all snuggled up in their hive, waiting for the sun to climb just a little bit higher in the sky. So it’s not the bees.

Could it be the termites? They are busy building empires up the sides of the house rapidly conquering the wooden beams and struts. I listen more closely, - hmmm, no, it’s not the termites. This humming sound has a steady buzzing quality to it. The termites, rattling their heads against their earthen walls, sound far more erratic. So the termites can’t be blamed, despite their many other sins.

Looking out over the tangle of leaf and creeper all is still and calm.
Just this loud buzzing sound. Well, it must be coming from the air! A cloud sifts the sunshine and a sunspot shifts right in front of me.
Before I can move my hand into it, to see if I can feel any warmth in the cold air, a flash of light zips down and claims it.

The flash of light zips back and forth humming loudly all the while.
Whoever this is – they are responsible for the pre-dawn buzzing sound.
The cloud passes and the sunspot settles. And so does its claimant.
Now I can see that the buzzer is an insect. A hoverfly.
He has claimed the sunspot as his own to display in. He holds his place perfectly, wings a whirr of aerodynamic perfection. He is so bold and confident that even as I fiddle clumsily with the camera he barely budges. Then, with a stroke of luck (at 1/4000th of a second!), his dance is captured, and my insatiable curiosity briefly sated.

PS – Many, many thanks to all of you who read this blog and send me comments and questions. I really love hearing from you, and I am so glad that even the smallest creatures are of interest to so many. I apologize for not posting more often – but I am back home in Kenya now for a few months and I will be posting lots more (when I have internet access!).

Asante sana!

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