Simon Barnes Author and Journalist

Sports and Wild Blog

Simon Barnes
  • Home
  • Biog
  • Blog
  • Books
  • Pictures
  • Contact
  • Twitter

A swimming lion grapples with the problems of unrequited love

19 October 2017 by Simon Barnes 5 Comments

Grownup lions don’t run for fun

And six gorgeous lionesses were galloping across the lion-coloured sand in the far side of the Luangwa River.

I watched. So did a young male lion on a sandbank nearby. Both of us enthralled.

Poor fella. He had picked up some kind of wound or infection: the life of a nomad male is hard, and of course, he had no pride of lions to kill for him. He was visibly recovering – much better than he was a couple of days back – but was still ribby and out of condition. He needed a good meal. He needed to be looked after.

The six distant lionesses formed a rosette: all you could of them, a quarter-mile off, was their bums. Each tail made a perfect italic swash above the level of the bank. Easy to work out what was going on: one of them has just knocked down an antelope and the rest were joyously eating it.

The joy of being a social animal.

But the lone male was not invited. Even though he really, really wanted to join in. He stood there watching a parade of all his heart’s desires: a decent snack, six lovely lionesses (at least!) and all the lovely loving social life a chap could use.

He stood staring, every muscle tense. But he didn’t walk towards them. Something very powerful inhibited him. Perhaps he knew he would get a rough reception. Perhaps he knew he lacked the strength to fight for a pride of his own. Perhaps he had learned all this from hard experience.

For a male lion the nomadic life begins when he kicked out of the pride, normally for showing sexual interest in the females. After that he’s on his own: or maybe he’s lucky and leaves with a brother or two. This

one had a brother: but the brother had absented himself, presumably to kill for himself while the other was poorly.

And as I watched a strange thing happened. The lion decided it was time to withdraw – but couldn’t make himself do it. He retreated a dozen paces – then stopped and stared again, stared with desperate longing. Moved on: and stopped yet again. Watching. Fascinated. And then again. He did this for maybe half a dozen times, until he was at the main stream of the river.

Do you remember the scene in Love Actually, when Andrew Lincoln, in the agonies of unrequited love for Keira Knightley, walks away from her, makes a series of attempts to walk back, but each time changes his mind yet again – until eventually he pulls himself together.

Enough!

And with the same epic decisiveness the lion turned his back on that vision of love and peace and plenty and walked into the river. And swam. Swam with immense confidence, as if swimming was nothing out of the ordinary for a lion, and yet it was something I’d never seen a lion do in all my years of watching them.

Enough.

· I was co-leading the Sacred Combe Safari with Chris Breen from www.wildlifeworldwide.com

http://www.wildlifeworldwide.com/group-tours/sacred-combe-safari

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter

Posted in Wildblog

Comments

  1. Anthony Bird says

    19 October 2017 at 5:20 pm

    Simon yet again a fantastic picture, or should that be scene, is created for those of us that will never see such a scene, for that I thank you and lookforward to many more.

    Reply
  2. Angela Pavitt says

    19 October 2017 at 5:48 pm

    What a magnificent picture you paint. I was enthralled and uplifted by this courageous lion.

    Reply
  3. Francoise LYONS says

    19 October 2017 at 7:51 pm

    Simon, you have described this scene exactly as it was, and you bring it to life again in a truly magical way.
    As I too watched this drama unfold, I could not help but feel sorry for this lion.
    Whilst photographing him as he swam across the river, this lion looked straight into my eyes as if in a shared understanding.
    Thank you .

    Reply
  4. Ilona says

    19 October 2017 at 9:23 pm

    I’m moved by your description – we can learn a lot from animals in the wild – it’s possible to feel more respect for them than for people.

    Reply
  5. Di says

    20 October 2017 at 7:31 pm

    Thanks so much for sharing,Simon.

    Reply

Please leave a comment Cancel reply

Receive Blog Updates By Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to my blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 6,287 other subscribers.

Recent Comments

  • Michael John Clark on Midsummer – it must be time for a swift drink
  • Sue on On the whole, stoats are better than work
  • Michael John Clark on On the whole, stoats are better than work
  • Elaine Slee on On the whole, stoats are better than work
  • Keith Owens on Midsummer – it must be time for a swift drink

Categories

  • Myblog (7)
  • Sportsblog (7)
  • Wildblog (217)

Archives

  • June 2022
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • July 2018
  • May 2018
  • February 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • June 2017
  • April 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014

© Simon Barnes · info@simonbarnesauthor.co.uk
Home page photograph © David Bebber · Bird drawings © foxillustration.com
Created by Purple Hippo