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Roaming with Knysna's giants

The raggedy hem of the Knysna forest gives no indication of the skirts of green await visitors. Even the way that jumps around barking mangy and fungi embedded newspapers is not permanent, the first laps of the forest to the ankles of the way, threatening to take back what he has.

The green lung of the Southern Cape is a gourmet dinner, vacuum the debris from the forest floor, devouring the light from above.

I came to walk on roads where the Dalene Matthee drew inspiration for his novels of forest and, of course, to catch a glimpse of the Knysna elephants.

I loved elephants since childhood and bought the propaganda that was Disney Dumbo goofy and sweet. My grandmother played Power Mancini Baby Elephant at the piano, his fingers on the keys sticking how much a baby elephant would ignore a paved road. It played over and over again at my command while I dreamed of playing with baby elephants.

She also made a nice I loved Ellie. The stuffed toy has become corroded, deformed, and finally, after years on my sunny windowsill, crumbled. But my love for animals has never waned.

The imposing stinkwood, spear, hard pear and alder stand shoulder and shoulder against moisture, green carpet on the forest floor muffles the sound of human footsteps. If there are elephants padding in the brush, one probably would not hear them. There was certainly no pat bulky elephant dung or trees broken to indicate that we had missed their way.

A recent U.S. study would have us believe at least five women roam the forests, but officials have yet to corroborate these findings SANParks independent. In the 1800s the forest was home to hundreds of elephants, but by the early 1900s, they were hunted to extinction for their ivory.

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