The term “Big Five” once referred to the most dangerous animals to hunt on foot: lion, leopard, elephant, rhino, and Cape buffalo. On safari, the meaning has changed. It’s now shorthand for the most iconic wildlife sightings, the ones tourists hope to capture through a lens or a memory. I was lucky enough to see all five—plus many more. But what made them unforgettable wasn’t just the sight of them—it was the experience of them.
Let’s start with the giraffes. I’ve always had a soft spot for these tall, gentle giants. My trip to Africa was, in part, inspired by a visit to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs, where I fed a giraffe and felt something stir in my heart. Seeing them roam freely on the savannah was the culmination of a long-held dream. I learned to identify Masai, Reticulated, and Rothschild’s giraffes by their leg markings, each one a living mural. Watching them move—legs on the same side gliding forward in unison—was like watching nature’s own ballet.
Then came the cheetah. Our first sighting was a mother and her three cubs walking down a road. Later, we spotted one after a sunrise balloon ride, disappearing into bushes. Unlike the lion’s bulk or the leopard’s stealth, the cheetah was all elegance and energy—Africa in motion.
Elephants, of course, were everywhere. We saw them daily, always in groups, always headed toward water. On the final day in the Serengeti, a herd of 31 elephants crossed the road ahead of us. One baby dropped to the ground, too tired to go on. Its mother and sibling stood by patiently until it struggled back to its feet. Moments like that remind you why these creatures are symbols of memory and family.
Rhinos were more elusive. We saw white rhinos resting in the shade, and a black rhino that was visibly agitated by the tourist trucks blocking its path. Their power is undeniable, but what struck me most was their vulnerability. Their horns, made of keratin like our fingernails, are the reason they’re poached. And yet, they carry on, unaware of their symbolic weight.
And then there were the hippos. On the surface, they look lazy and even comical. But don’t let the sleepy eyes fool you. I witnessed a full-scale fight between a male and a female—mud flying, teeth bared, their mouths opening nearly 150 degrees wide. That mother was fighting for her calves. She didn’t back down, and eventually, the bull retreated.
Beyond the Big Five, there were warthogs kneeling to graze, baboons on bridges, and wildebeests in endless migration beside their zebra counterparts. Each species had its own rhythm, its own logic. Even the scavengers—the hyenas, vultures, and crocodiles—played their part in keeping the ecosystem in balance.
If you want to see these stories come to life, African Safari: Kenya and Tanzania captures these moments in both images and memory. And if you’re curious about the birds that flew above and between it all, Birds of Africa and Birds in Flight offer a window into that vibrant, airborne world.
The Big Five are worth seeing—but the magic is in the moments between the sightings. That’s where the heart of Africa lives.