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Eish, Spook, I feel exactly the same.

Yes the call of nature is very strong!

All it need is for you to listen. Whether in a Sanpark or on a farm.
Sometimes when we visit a sanpark we neglect that call.
We are sometimes blinded by our own greed.

Sometimes we have to be reminded of the total experience of nature and that small things makes it perfect. The sound of crickets, a night owl, the breeze through the leaves, a jackal who is hated on a farm. The encounter with a puff adder, seeing a cow adopting another one's calf. To see and "feel" the joy of two dogs enjoying the vast openness, the stars and milky way that you almost can touch !

To rejoice in new life, to be sad for the lost of a death. To feel the blessing when it's raining, to feel the hunger of other when no rain has fallen. Nature can be cruel, but most times it do make you as human stronger and from her so much to learn!

I'm blessed when I'm in nature!

Now I have the Sunday night blues... Hope to visit soon again...

I swallowed hard when I last filled with petrol. It is a price to pay for living on a farm.

but then,
this morning I was woken up by chattering Bulbuls
I watched a Raven steal from my dog's bowl,
the Jackal's call cut through the night

and as I fall asleep
I listen to the symphony of the savannah.

a small price to pay, is my petrol, a small price for a little taste of heaven.

That is so true Boorgatspook!

eish, nature is screaming for me to come home, never mind just calling

while not in nature i talk loudly to myself to count my blessings, like living on a plot (smallholding) on the outskirts of town. I can hear the guinea fowls wake me in the morning and the jackals and night jars and owls at night. I have a view of the mountains that is so beautiful, but it wants me to go there......

I thought this thread was about a different call of nature.

Like the time my mother 'entertained' lions we had not seen on a dirt road far from any camp in 1956.........

Gee whizz BB!! Fortunately they were not too close???

They were close Hilda. Close enough to pounce without us being able to do anything, but maybe they thought my mom was dangerous and if they stayed put in the camouflage of the winter grass, she would not hurt them (or worse!).

Those very busy little francolin hens that scurry, dart and run all over in the camps, constantly making their distinct bird chatting sound especially in the Kruger bushveld camps, represent the call of nature to me. The call to go for a long drive in Kruger after a visit to the ablutions.