My First Time on a Spinning Wheel That Wasn't Spinning
April 10, 2025
There's something magical about watching wildlife through rain-speckled windows. It adds drama, like you're watching a nature documentary with special effects.
That's exactly what happened when my friend and I decided to visit a Kenyan safari during what our guide diplomatically called "precipitation season" (read: it was pouring).
The adventure began at the visitor center, where we paid for our tickets and transportation. Our guide, let's call him Daniel because honestly I was too excited to remember his actual name, greeted us with the kind of enthusiasm that makes you wonder if he's either genuinely passionate about wildlife or really good at faking it for tourists.
Our safari vehicle braving the elements
"Today, we might see animals behaving differently," he explained as fat raindrops pelleted the roof of our vehicle. "The rain changes everything."
He wasn't kidding.
As we drove through the safari, Daniel shared fascinating facts about every animal we encountered. He told us how rhinos have poor eyesight but excellent hearing, how zebras' stripes act as natural bug repellent, and something about antelope migration patterns that I nodded enthusiastically about while understanding absolutely none of it.
The truth is, I was too busy frantically photographing everything that moved (and several things that didn't) to absorb all the information. My camera battery indicator was dropping faster than my ability to remember species names.
"And over there, you'll see a... oh, it's gone behind the bush." Daniel would say, as I desperately aimed my camera at random foliage.
"What was it?" I'd ask.
"A very rare type of... oh look, zebras!"
And so it went. My memory card filled with pictures of zebras looking annoyed about the weather, rhinos appearing even more prehistoric with mud caked on their armor, and various antelope-adjacent creatures whose names all sounded vaguely like prescription medications.
Zebras looking thoroughly unimpressed with the weather
The rain created these magical moments you don't see in sunny safaris. Water droplets collecting on a lioness's whiskers. Baby elephants sliding around in fresh mud. A family of warthogs trotting through puddles with what I can only describe as gleeful abandon.
By the time my camera battery finally surrendered (approximately two hours in), I'd taken 437 photos, learned and immediately forgotten the names of at least 12 species. What I remember most wasn't the textbook facts or even all the animals we saw. It was the smell of wet earth, the sound of rain on the roof mixing with distant animal calls, and the shared excitement with complete strangers each time something new emerged from the landscape.
So if you're planning a safari and check the weather to find rain in the forecast, go anyway. Just bring extra camera batteries and perhaps a notebook for all those animal names. Your photos might be a bit darker, your clothes a bit damper, but your memories will be all the more vivid.
Next up: My underwhelming experience at Lobe Falls and my first swimming "lesson"...
