It was a bit of a crap shoot, but I thought that my research would pay off. The event has been repeated for millennia as the wildebeest relive the tragedy of the commons. The seemingly infinite fields of Serengeti grasses are actually an ephemeral resource mowed to the roots by greedy grazers that nibble the foliage down to the soil. It was the end of June; the wildebeest should be on the move. The anticipation of seeing the great migration weighed on my every thought. I had visions of viewing nervous herds leaping into crocodile infested waters in a futile attempt to find a utopia on the Mara.
Where were the wildebeest? We drove for hours as we made our way towards the Tanzanian border. We traversed endless fields of tall grasses, and had infrequent encounters with wildlife. For two days we searched the Mara, but the great migration was not to be found. The wildebeest were coming, but not until their food was gone. We arrived too soon. From the Kenyan border we could see the herd beginning to grow, but it was not showtime. We waited for hours and revisited the "hotspots," but they were not ready to take the plunge.
The wildebeest are coming, the wildebeest are coming... but we have to go.
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