As the fire burns down, the bush comes alive. Grunts and screeches erupt from beyond our ring of light. The thought of spending the night in a tent with only a thin canvas wall separating us from the creatures behind those voices is unnerving, but George assures us we will be safe. Still, we huddle close to the glowing coals. Arriving at Lake Nakuru as afternoon thunderheads build, we drive through the woods north of the lake.
Baboons peer from the brush along the road.
A shy bushbuck fades into the forest gloom. Hornbills flap overhead. We leave the trees and park at the dry edge of the lake bed. The distant water appears pink, but a closer look reveals tens of thousands of flamingos. With an eye to the darkening sky, we grab cameras and hurry across the bleached lakeshore toward the water.