π Sabi Sands, South Africa Not every moment in the bush announces itself. Some of the most extraordinary things happen in the in-between while you are waiting for something else, while the light is doing nothing in particular, while the plain sits in its own quiet company. We had been sitting with this giraffe for some time, watching her move through the morning at her own unhurried pace, when I noticed the oxpecker. He had been there all along, tucked just below the ridge of her mane, working his way methodically through her coat with the focused air of someone who has somewhere to be and all the time in the world to get there. The relationship between oxpecker and host is one of Africa's oldest arrangements. The bird takes its meals in ticks and parasites, the giraffe receives what amounts to a traveling companion and a small, diligent custodian. Neither seems to give it much thought. And then he rose just far enough to peer over the mane, that extraordinary red bill catching the morning light, and for a moment he simply looked out: surveying the same plain she was surveying, from a height he could never have reached alone. I made this photograph because I had learned, slowly, to stop waiting for the dramatic thing. The world does not reserve its beauty for the chase.
