98% Human

As dawn broke, for the briefest instant, the world seemed at peace. I opened
my eyes and just lay in complete awe of my surroundings. At times like these,
its almost possible to feel the world moving round beneath you.
High above me in the canopy, a solitary sunbird began to serenade the new day,
its sweet song wandering across the sky with ease and finesse until a second
infused an intricate countermelody, rising and falling effortlessly as the trees
began to breathe in the morning mist.
All around me, the Impenetrable Bwindi Cloud Forest, behind me and arduous
journey to the most secluded place on earth; and in front of me an impossible
task. Mother Nature does not give her secrets away willingly, but it is my duty
to seek them out, to hunt them down and bring them back home. I cleared my
campsite, leaving no trace of myself in the small clearing and set off, rifle
holstered, machete in hand, in search of my target. The perpetual mist swirling
round the Ugandan mountains was cooling, making my journey across this peak
top woodland bearable but no less difficult. When they say impenetrable they
almost mean it, my going was nowhere near as fast as I should have liked, for I
had to carve away each and every step through the dense undergrowth.
After several arduous hours, killing only time and seeing only vegetation, a
movement up ahead caught my eye a rustling of leaves, a snapping of twigs.
Silently, I pursued. My heart rate quickened until, suddenly, two brilliant green
eyes appeared, staring back at me from the shadows of an unusually large tree.
A leopard. Snarling through gritted teeth, she was not amused at my presence.
I was amazed at her beauty: the sophistication of her glossy coat; the
sharpness of her eyes a fine addition to my collection, yet I must let her
leave, for I came here for one prize and one prize only and she was not it. I
left the leopardess in peace, wondering about what I was going to do the
solitude of the cloud forest was a mixed blessing; no one to interrupt any
activities, but no one to hear any scream, or cry for help...

I could not fail. I would not fail. I had to find him.

My prey was proving elusive, but I was tantalisingly close so close I could feel
it. After many years of hunting one develops a sense for things such as this. A
steely resolve to cope with every eventuality. Superior senses to absorb each
and every minute detail of your surroundings and the ability to pick out and
neutralise that hidden but oh so fatal threat. These skills, twinned with
limitless patience and a steady aim, proved me to be the best in the world.
Thats why when someone wanted a job doing well, they asked me the elite. I
continued through the forest once again.
I estimated the time to be nearly 4pm and decided I should find a suitable
campsite. This was easier said than done; I was now so deep into the forest,
that discovering a clearing big enough for a tent was neigh on impossible. It was
then I spotted a solution. Directly in front of where I was standing, a
Kilimanjaro Mahogany whose trunk split in two, roughly 6 feet off the ground.
I scaled the trunk with ease and then sat atop the fork, resting my back against
one side of the trunk. It was not the perfect place to spend the night, but it
was certainly better then the forest floor. Hanging my rifle on a branch, in
easy reach should anything occur, I began to unroll my sleeping bag. I had been
unsuccessful, but tomorrow was a new day.
Suddenly, not ten yards to my right, he appeared. All my thoughts washed
away like the tide as I reached for my rifle with my left hand. There he was,
walking effortlessly towards me through the undergrowth - a formidable, yet
mesmerising foe: a silverback mountain gorilla. His muscles rippled as he began
to climb the tree next to mine. His colossal stature moved with grace beyond
belief.
I moved the viewfinder to my eye, I was not going to take any chances; or miss.
I observed, motionless. He pulled a fig from the branches of his tree and sat
facing me. His hands must have been at least twice the size as mine, yet he
halved the fig with incredible dexterity and then looked me directly in the eye.
They burned with a fiery intelligence of the like I had never seen before. Then,
slowly, thoughtfully, he leaned over, with half of the fig in the palm of his
outstretched hand an offer of friendship. Equally slowly, and just as
thoughtfully, I squeezed my right index finger on the trigger.
It was time.

I placed my camera behind me and accepted the gift. I never thought it

possible for the subjects of my work to be anything more than subjects, but I
was wrong. It was crystal clear that this silverback wanted nothing more than
peace and companionship. I looked back into those fiery eyes. There was
unspoken gratitude for his generosity, for allowing me to preserve the most
intimate of situations for all to see, and, returning the gaze, a face so real, so
understanding so human...
I was lost for words, but the photograph tells a thousand.