My
first visit to Wilpattu National Park was in January 1981. That
was my first time with a camera - trying wildlife photography with a Kodak 110. During my first
Wilpattu safari, in a passenger coach, seated next to the Driver, we saw
a lot of birds, but didn't see any leopard. It was a simple lesson of learning to deal with the many disappointments that are very much an integral part and parcel of the genuine safari experience. We
stayed a night, and then left.
Through
the years, Wilpattu proved a difficult park for me. Others would see
spectacular sights that eluded me. The most disappointing was my never
being able to see leopard in that park. Yala was far more accommodating. But
to me, Wilpattu seemed always by far to be the more beautiful, with greater botanical diversity.
A
little more than 34 years later, on 11 March 2015, I was on
safari by myself in Wilpattu. I had asked for a tracker, but the single
available tracker was hoping to meet up with high-tipping tourists
arriving later, and politely declined. I did not object, but wondered at my dwindling chances of sighting the animal I had come (and secretly hoped) to see. We drove for the full day through
the park, seeing other animals, enjoying the experience, and enjoying the scenery.
Wilpattu
is known for its series of "Villus," inland lakes, mostly having fresh-water, lined with sandy
shores, providing oases to a variety of animals during the
dry season. Waiting for animals to appear at a water-hole is standard operating procedure for many types of safaris. But at this time of year, the rains had just ended, and there was
plenty of water elsewhere in the park, so that even large animals did not need
to visit the villus. It was now past 5:00 p.m., and we needed to begin
the long drive back to the park gate. My jeep driver turned into yet another
villu - probably for the last time.
The
leopard was lying by the grassy bank of the villu, the colors of its coat
enhanced by the ambience of the early evening. It got up, walked around, went into the
jungle, came out, sat down, got up ...a beautiful male leopard in its
prime. For the several minutes that seemed like hours to my racing heart, it
was just my private leopard, and all the disappointments that had accumulated over so many years
slowly ebbed away as my camera snapped photograph after photograph. Sometimes, I just had
to stop and wait - for the leopard to change its position or even move. Once, I even got bored - waiting for the leopard to either change its position or come out from the fringe of the jungle. Most leopards get photographed against backdrops of either sand, dense foliage, tree branches, or rock. In this particular instance, the background was the light green grass growing by the side of the villu, well hydrated by the past rains, and the verdant foliage on the fringe of the tropical jungle. And whenever the leopard moved out from the shade, the rays of the setting sun caught it and danced along each of its long whiskers, highlighting each one in every detail.
Many of these photos can now be seen on my web link with Getty Images:
Thinking back on the events that day, I try to remind myself of what it really means to go on a jungle safari in Sri Lanka. The animals have so many places to hide that are well outside the field of view of the jungle from any road vantage point. And predators must follow their prey, if they are not to remain hungry. As vegetation gets eaten, time is needed for those plants to grow new shoots again, so the herbivorous animals roam over the park area, feeding as they migrate. Another significant factor is the weather. And if you suddenly get lucky, it is the animal subject that gets to choose the background for your photograph. And while all of these factors usually cause much disappointment, they also ensure the thrill when fortunes suddenly change.
