Perched on a vacant branch, secluded and content in his own world, is Rudey a pied kingfisher throwing carefree gazes around – carefree or cautious – for the looks of it carefree.. but I am yet to learn that looks can be completely deceiving. The kingfisher stalkers continued unabated sneaking their way through the thorny bushes and dirt. After ten minutes of ouch, eewww and yikes, played inside the head none of them escaping the closed mouth, we spotted Rudey. Every step towards him was meticulously put because we knew and we knew it for good that Rudey is gifted with a keen sense of hearing and even the slightest deviance in the general scheme of things will grab his attention and he would disapparate. The sights and sounds of his habitat are well known to him like the notes of an orchestra for which Rudey is the conductor… we filthy stalkers are the unwanted notes and we better stay muted. Perhaps we should have known that Rudey is also gifted with an exceptional sense of smell and he in fact had already sensed our presence. He had only been fooling around letting us carry our cameras and foolish hopes high, wading through the thicket of thorns inching closer to him with excitement. He is Rudey – who has seen it all you stalkers hoping to catch a glimpse of me – and he is Rudey for that. It did not take us any longer to know Rudey’s playful intentions as he stood basking in the heat of our excitement and took-to-his-wings in the blink of an eye shattering our hopes, flimsy hopes it always was, and leaving us cold and dunk in the dirt… The ruthless desertion did not come easy on me and I voiced my discontent to my colleague who replied with a saintly smile apt he may have felt... A smile that said ‘Welcome to the Wild’

In the wild you are never welcome... You are an intrusion, a wrong note in the harmonious blend and you are unwanted for that, despised even… The wild is known to be rude, reckless and spares no chance to play. You are only allowed to play their game, by their rules... they raise the stakes and they call the shots... you only play. Losing is only the next thing and you never win... they let you win. Despite all this the wild casts a magical spell of magnanimous beauty that’s pure and genuine bereft of any layers of disguise or affected emotions – a curse thrusted on us humans. The spirit of such unqualified beauty, consummate and cold-hearted, leaves you agitated, astounded trying your patience, tiring you out, exacting every ounce of energy and ultimately raging with an appetite for more…

The wild imprints its paw on you and changes you forever….

The best shot of Rudey