Ranthambore · 2023

Returning to Ranthambore

A second visit, a hotter month, a different zone. New cubs, an old fort, the same patient way of waiting for a tiger to choose you.

There is a particular satisfaction in coming back to a place you have already photographed properly once. The pressure is off. You are not chasing the species; you are looking for the picture you didn't make last time. In Ranthambore, in the second week of June, the picture you didn't make last time tends to involve heat haze, a waterhole, and a tiger who is quite obviously not in any hurry to do anything for your benefit.

Ranthambore — the second visit.
Ranthambore — the second visit.

Different zones, different hours

We worked zones five and six on this trip — drier, more open, full of the kind of long sandstone slabs that catch first light beautifully and dump the heat back at you for the rest of the day. The drives are shorter at this time of year — out by 5:45, back by 9:30, before the heat becomes its own animal.

First light on sandstone — zone five.
First light on sandstone — zone five.
Forest interior — the cool half-hour.
Forest interior — the cool half-hour.

New cubs

The big news of this season was a new litter — three cubs, somewhere in the heart of zone three, with a mother who'd gone quiet and territorial. We did not see the cubs (we did not try; new mothers deserve their privacy), but we picked up the dominant tigress on a forest road on the second morning, walking directly down the middle, the kind of slow, deliberate gait that a tiger reserves for moving between business appointments.

Tigress on a forest road — between appointments.
Tigress on a forest road — between appointments.

The waterhole, again

Late on the third afternoon we sat on a small waterhole that we had visited the year before. The same kingfisher worked the same dry branch. The same drongo perched on the same boulder. Twenty minutes before sunset, a young male — perhaps two years old, just edging out from his mother's territory — walked down to the water, drank for three minutes without lifting his head, and walked back into the lantana.

Sub-adult male — three minutes of drinking.
Sub-adult male — three minutes of drinking.

Returning to a park is a small, quiet kind of education. You learn the predictable patterns — which roads warm first, where the prey concentrates by mid-morning, which rangers drive too fast — and you learn to be patient with the tigers' refusal to be predictable.

Wildlife photography is a long apprenticeship in being where the picture is going to happen, and shutting up until it does.

Want to walk this trail?

Ranthambore Tiger Safari

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