As Big Cat Week is awaited with bated breath, the Toehold Photo Tour, which takes you to the overwhelmingly beautiful land of the Mara with all its charismatic feline denizens, is all set to leave you speechless with its enormous range of wild beings. And to prepare you for the spellbinding experience, here are a few glimpses of it, in the way of a photo essay.
The water is a slither, taking all of him, dipping into the nebulous ether of him. Conjuring shivers while soaking, he shakes off all the water once the rain disappears to where it came from.
Under an azure sky, see how an evening zephyr ruffles his hair nonchalantly, a hazy swaying. But he is uprising, he is revolt, even if the sky is a sapphire sulk.
In the lap of a bluey day, there’s a waiting: for a young but direct gaze, a gasp, for wordless poetry, an innocuous aggression.
What are we but a flurry of silhouettes that become a blur to one another in cities and towns? And what grace this is, to be so strongly present, significant, without even trying hard at all!
This isn’t about creatures of sallow skin. This is about those whose being is rimmed with the light of a quiet dignity, about those in the golden glory of sacred dawns and dusks.
Lives lost in the hurry of forming, of surviving. If the Impala is blessed, so is the cheetah. A land where life exists beyond human comprehension and emotion.
In the hum of an indecisive blank tree devoid of leafy laughter, a sly pair of eyes and sure-footed limbs watch. A spotted spectacle against a clear blue, impregnated sky.
A luminous yellow bleeds from ruptured sheets of cerulean clouds, like it’s beckoned by elephant trumpets.
Light dances like an anxious fever on the arch of her spotted back, gripping her tensely. Light swells and drifts and falls on the yellow flesh of her.